The Damage We Do
by Kasca Black
Summary: When it comes to Sam and Dylan we only see the war, but how did the peace go? And how does Sam's decision to go back to the Army affect her husband? Sam/Dylan WIP
1. Chapter 1

The Damage we do

Disclaimer : Don't own Casualty or any of the characters.

I am not a member of the armed forces and I am not an A & E doctor. This means I will try really hard to make it realistic but there are some things research just can't teach you. Please forgive the technical missteps. I hope this won't be too difficult to follow. At this point there are multiple Points of view but points of view of characters other than Sam and Dylan will be fleeting. In this chapter Sam's POV is the present (normal text) and Dylan's is the past (italics). This is a oneshot so far but I may add to it. Please review if you have constructive criticism or you like it. By the way am I the only one really gutted casualty has been lost to eurovision this week? Noooo!

* * *

Sam woke with a start breathing heavily. The face of the Afghan man she had killed felt like it was burned into her eyes. She tried to calm her breathing and absently reached out for her husband. She felt the cold bed and drew her arm back quickly, wrapping both arms around herself to try and provide some kind of comfort even if she didn't feel she deserved it. She turned her face into her pillow silently. The thought of the man's son entered her head and she wondered who was comforting him now.

Perhaps things were better the way they were. Perhaps this broken miserable thing that was her relationship with her husband was now her penance. She knew that further sleep was a lost cause and she rose, showered and got ready for work at a reasonable pace.

She sat at the kitchen table staring at the deployment paperwork she had received yesterday. The blonde flicked through to the next of kin notation. She breathed deeply and filled out Dr Dylan Keogh just like always. Even if he no longer belonged to her, he deserved to be told properly. She owed him that much. He deserved to be recognised as her most important person. He deserved not to see it on BBC news. It wasn't going to happen though. After all this time would be third time lucky. She felt the familiar pre-deployment mix of fear and anticipation fill her. She would tell Mr Jordan today.

One week in Holby left.

Two weeks to go.

* * *

"One week?" Mr Jordan questioned "That's a bit short notice isn't it?"

"I actually go in two weeks but I have to do some pre-deployment refresher training the week before I go."

"Well allow me to say we will miss you Dr Nicholls. And when you come back I would be happy for you to rejoin the department if you'd like." He gave her a firm handshake and she moved to the door.

"Thank you for what you've taught me. I'm going back a better doctor because of you. Will you give me the day to let Dylan know?" Nick nodded and watched her leave regretfully. It didn't take a genius to figure out why the young woman had brought her deployment date forward. It was unfortunate that the torment in her personal life meant that the only way she could escape the emotional hurt was to put herself in physical danger. The way they worked together, it was like they had known each other all their lives. It was just a shame their relationship outside work didn't play out the same way.

* * *

_6 years earlier…._

_Dylan gazed along the bar happily buzzed from the alcohol he had consumed. It had been a hard day and he had uncharacteristically accepted an invitation from a couple of his colleagues to get out and enjoy himself. Usually he wouldn't have accepted but his best mate had made a couple of comments about his drinking on his own and he just wanted a night of a good drink without the guilt complex that usually followed. _

_Jack was there now, surrounded by a group of pretty girls who were laughing at his attempts to buy them all their own bottle of champagne. Dylan wondered how long it would be before Jack accidentally dropped the fact that he was a surgeon into the conversation. He was still only a trainee of course, but Jack didn't let the truth get in the way of a good story, especially where there was a pretty girl involved. Dylan noticed a blonde- haired girl at the edge of the group seemed less than impressed by his mate's efforts. She was exceptionally beautiful, in that effortless, non-made up way that suggested she didn't know it. She was checking her phone and was laughing at Jack's story in a way which suggested she thought he was talking balls. Which to be fair he was, even he would admit that if you asked him fair and square. _

_Suddenly one of the girls piped up "Sam, is that right, could he really do that? Our Sams' a doctor too!" The young woman he had been watching looked up and knocking back the last of her drink waved her arm in the universal sign for not getting involved._

_Dylan still feeling the bravery of the happily intoxicated felt like talking to her and squeezed in by her side. _

"_My mate Jack." He said pointing at Jack. Sam looked less than impressed. "God, he's talking balls isn't he!" She laughed, and any guilt Dylan would have felt for bursting Jack's bubble went out the window. _

"_Can I buy you a drink?" She looked at him and then back at her friends who were roaring with laughter at something Jack had just said. Dylan suspected it was the hamster story. That was a good story._

_She smiled and Dylan couldn't help smiling back. She was breath-taking._

"_Yes thanks. I'm Sam."_

"_Dylan."_

"_Actually I was just thinking about getting some shots. Fancy it?" Sam challenged._

"_You're on."_

_Two hours later Sam and her friends departed and Dylan had both her mobile number and a sort of promise that they would meet in the same bar in a couple of day's time. Jack also had a couple of numbers from her friends._

_Dylan watched them go and Jack swaggered up to him and hung onto his neck swaying. "I'm an awesome wingman for you, you know. All you had to do was lay in wait for the weakest one that got separated from the pack. You owe me big time Keogh!"_

_Dylan shook his head laughing, and then promptly stopped as it made the room spin alarmingly. "You're an idiot Jack. She wasn't the weakest one. She is the strongest one." He explained in his best 'patients are idiots' tone. "Right then. Chips!"_

"_Chips!" Jack repeated happily and they staggered off for chips and home._

* * *

Sam decided to tell him sooner rather than later and successfully stalked her husband to the staffroom during a less manic moment. Luckily it was just them and Scarlett who was collecting her purse to go to the café. Sam waited until she had left and watched Dylan as he made his bowl of cereal. She was silent and propped herself against the counter waiting for him to give her his attention. He tensed and she watched as his posture became rigid and the cereal was abandoned.

"When do you go?"

Sam moved closer, still facing the other way so they were looking in opposite directions, nearly touching. Nearly, but not quite. "Pre-deployment in one week, Bastion in two weeks. Six month deployment just like before."

He was silent for what seemed like an age. The he slammed the cereal bowl into the counter and walked away. Sam watched him go, feeling her heart break all over again and slowly and carefully cleaned up the mess he had made.

Zoë watched Dylan exit the staffroom, walking so fast he didn't even see her, bounding up the stairs to CDU like something was chasing him. She stood there continuing to try and sort out the recalcitrant ward sister on ward 20 who was putting up a valiant fight to avoid taking a frequent flyer. Sam left the staffroom and came over to the desk to grab a patient file.

"What's up with him?" She asked putting down the phone victoriously, knowing the army medic would know who she was referring to.

Sam stared intently at the patient file and Zoë wondered if she was going to answer at all. "I'm leaving."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Where are you going?" She asked genuinely confused. She knew Sam should be somewhere in the middle of her nine month secondment to Holby City E.D.

"Afghanistan." The blonde said shortly and walked off with her file.

Zoë watched her go, certain any comment was unwelcome. She thought about the Dylan and about Nick and how she would feel if Nick was suddenly called up to a war zone. She liked the young doctor, despite how Sam could be a bit of a handful at times. Zoë had never been close to anyone who had been a member of the armed forces apart from her grandparents. She couldn't imagine how Dylan dealt with it. She collected her files thoughtfully. She hoped this turned out alright, both for her gruff friend and his ex-partner. What a mess!

* * *

_6 years earlier_

_Dylan woke up slowly, squinting at the light and realised he wasn't alone in the bed. He was wrapped around a warm body and he could see a mess of long blonde hair in front of his field of vision. He remembered last night, seeing Sam again, and then coming back to his flat. Oh God! He thought to himself. The alcohol has worn off. This will be unbelievable awkward and I'll never see her again. What if she doesn't fancy me sober? What if she thinks I'm too old? How can I keep from messing this up?_

_She shifted in his arms, obviously waking up and turned to face him. She looked even younger than he had thought and he felt a pang of anxiety as he resisted the urge to ask her how old she was. She smiled at him and leaned in to kiss him happily and Dylan smiled too, because this he could do. This wasn't awkward at all. There didn't need to be words. _

"_Fancy breakfast?" She questioned sometime later. He nodded and they clumsily made a hearty hangover cure of scrambled eggs and beans on toast. They timed things wrong, they put the toast on too early and overcooked the beans but it didn't seem to matter to Dylan for some reason._

_As Sam was leaving Dylan finally got up the courage to ask her if she would like to meet for dinner the next day. She agreed and he went into work that afternoon feeling distinctly charitable. That is until the first drunken fourteen year old vomited on him and then he was pretty much back to normal. However he still hadn't clarified her age. How young could she be anyway? She had to be at least 23 to have graduated Medical school and be a doctor._

_The dinner date and subsequent night went really well so he was annoyed to have his good mood broken on Monday by the news that for the next three weeks he would be shadowed by two medical students doing their first A & E rotation. He wasn't good with medical students, he made them cry, drop out etc. So knowing these students were exclusively his was not encouraging. _

_He walked out of the locker room at seven am Monday morning with the haughty dignity of a man who had been wronged and was bearing it as best he could. His supervisor brought along the two students clad in clean white coats and notebooks at the ready. The first student was a young black woman. The second was a blonde who seemed to be hiding behind the black girl. He wasn't holding out much hope for that one. _

_Until he got a good look at her._

"_Dr Keogh, this is Astrid Nugamu and Samantha Nicholls, third year medical students. _

_He was speechless. Sam looked sick. His supervisor, as always was completely oblivious and prattled on, "I'm sure girls that Dr Keogh will try and teach you as much as he can about emergency medicine in the time that you are with us. Any problems he will be happy to help you."_

_Dylan managed a passable encouraging smile/grimace and the supervisor smiled as if he actually believed that and wandered off again. Dylan stood there for a second and then pulled himself together. _

_He pretended to look down at the file he was holding in his hands and read off it. "Ah yes Miss Nugamu and Miss Nicholls. Before we start, Miss Nicholls, a word please."_

_He led her to his supervisors office and closed the door. Sam still looked faintly sick and it took all of his self restraint not to bang his head on the door in frustration._

"_I thought you were a doctor. God how old are you?" He ground out._

_Sam looked annoyed and the sick look disappeared. "My friends think I'm a doctor. Med student, doctor, it's all the same to them. And I'm 21 and I bloody look it so don't you try that rubbish on me! I didn't lie to you!"_

_Dylan shifted uncomfortably as he considered he had ignored his misgivings about her age. She was so out of his league, that she even looked at him twice was enough, he hadn't cared about her age. He put his hand up in front of his eyes. _

"_I'll lose my job. You're my student."_

"_And I'll lose my army sponsorship." She snapped back. "We both have something to lose here. So we get back out there and we don't say a word. It's only three weeks okay! It's fine." She walked towards the door and Dylan's hand shot out of its own accord to grasp hers. He held it for a second and held her eyes in his gaze before nodding._

"_Fine. Shall we, Miss Nicholls." He held the door open for her. "Thank you Dr Keogh." She said politely and walked back out into the busy A & E department, ready to start her placement. _


	2. Chapter 2

The Damage We Do – Chapter 2

Hello! Another chapter and this is now definitely not a one shot. Thanks to the people who reviewed, it makes so much difference to know what you think! Thanks especially for the people who said I had Sam and Dylan in character because I do worry if I'm getting their voices right.

I'm still not a doctor or a member of the armed forces so please forgive any medical and army related mistakes. I've decided to put Sam and Dylan in Plymouth in the past as its not a million miles away from Holby but it's a fairly big place with a medical school.

Sam – present – normal text

_Dylan – past - Italics_

This update is up fairly quickly but the next one won't be tomorrow as I have clinic all day and then an essay to finish. Please read and review, thanks!

* * *

_Plymouth, 2006_

_The two medical students trailed behind Dylan like ducklings, looking at the unfamiliar surroundings with interest as he sped past the busy hallways and bays. He glanced behind him, Sam was practically bouncing with excitement and the other student wasn't much calmer. He stopped in front of the reception desk and looked through the admission forms for something to give them to see what they could do._

"_So do you two have any idea of specialties yet?" He said stiffly, trying to be formal._

"_Yes," Sam replied instantly, "battlefield emergency medicine. I've already been accepted by the army for sponsorship and that's where I'm aiming."_

_He swung round to look at her, shocked. "That's a big commitment." A commitment that should have been mentioned before starting a relationship. If he hadn't asked how long would it have taken her to tell him?_

_She looked unapologetic. "Yes. Six years post graduation and guaranteed time abroad in combat zones. I'll probably serve in Iraq or Afghanistan, assuming we are still in there when I graduate."_

_Six years! He hoped his feelings weren't obvious on his face as he turned to his other student._

"_What about you Miss Nugamu? Are you a thrill seeker too?" The other student looked between her colleague and the doctor sensing something wasn't quite right._

"_Actually I think I would like to work with older people. I think sometimes they don't get the respect they deserve. I think I would find that fulfilling. But this is the first rotation I've done so I may completely change my mind between now and decision time." She spoke softly with a musical South African accent and Dylan decided the oldies would love her._

"_Right. Good. First of all I'd like you to get some histories for me and we'll see how you do. The most important thing to remember about emergency medicine is that you are seeing the end result, one moment in time. Why do we take histories?"_

"_Because if you don't have all the information you can't make the correct diagnosis." Sam answered quickly._

"_Good Miss Nicholls. Miss Nugamu, what is the main problem with relying on a verbal history as a diagnostic tool?"_

"_The patient may give you misleading or incorrect information." She was quick too, just not as fast as Sam. Satisfied they weren't complete idiots he beckoned to them to follow as he went to the board to check which cubicles were free. He led them to the waiting area and handed them each the blank patient forms and pre-admission forms._

"_Call your patients." He said shortly. Both Sam and the other one looked at him in surprise and Dylan realised as this was their first placement they had never had to do this before. They shared an excited look at this milestone before putting on their professional face._

"_Helen Stone?" The other one called and her patient, an elderly lady was helped to her feet by a younger woman, probably her daughter. She was clutching her arm and seemed to have a slightly antalgic gait, favouring her left side. Dylan didn't have to be Mystic Meg to see several x-rays in her future._

"_James Wroblenski?" Sam called sounding slightly unsure of the unfamiliar name._

_A man got up leading a young boy with a tea towel to a wound on his head. He would just need some stitches if there were no other complicating aetiologies or injuries._

_He led them to adjacent cubicles and got them settled. _

"_Mrs Stone, I'm Dr Keogh and this is Miss Nugamu, she is a medical student and is going to ask you some questions to help with your treatment. I'll leave you with her and return shortly. "_

_He introduced Sam in the same way and went off to see another patient. Medicine prided itself on the sink or swim Darwinist approach and the best way to start was in at the deep end. Dylan thought observational placements were a waste of time and since the students were covered on his insurance he was getting the final vote. Besides, any idiot could take a history and Samantha at least was no idiot._

* * *

Holby, 2012

Sam heard the distinctive ring of the red incident phone and rushed to answer just sliding in front of Lenny and giving him a smug smile as she picked up.

"Holby City E.D?" She listened as Lenny stood in front of her and glared.

"Okay thanks I'll let them know."

Zoë and Tess appeared and Sam wasted no time. "Single vehicle R.T.C on the outer ring road. Three casualties, two en route, Female with Head injuries, query spinal and crush injuries to her hand. Female child around 10 with Spinal injuries and possible internal bleeding. E.T.A 10 minutes. Male still trapped with leg injury. Paramedics have requested a doctor at the scene."

She looked at Zoë expectantly who rolled her eyes and nodded. As Sam rushed to change she could hear Zoë placating Lenny with "She is leaving on Friday!" Lenny had no audible reaction to this comment which confirmed Sam's belief in Linda's almost MI5 level system of information gathering and dissemination. They all knew, good, one less awkward situation for her to sort out.

She drove there feeling a familiar anticipation and energy rush through her. This was what she missed of the army sometimes. But there were good things about a civilian hospital too, even apart from the fact your failures didn't make the six o'clock news.

You were much less likely to have to treat a friend here. It was more than that though, she felt she got to know people and help them in a way she couldn't when she was Major Nicholls. Dr Nicholls was a different animal, able to get closer to her patients. Sam hoped she didn't completely disappear when faced with Helmand again.

As she approached the crash site she was happy to see her favourite paramedic pair, Jeff and Dixie, were the ones looking after the male. The car was a right mess perched on the side of an embankment with a steep slope below. Sam didn't want to dwell on how the little girl was doing after being in the car when that happened and she also didn't want to dwell on how lucky they were the car wasn't already at the bottom of the slope.

"Hi Jeff, I was hoping to see you two." She said falling into step beside him as he came to meet her.

"Aw you know you're our favourite too, princess." He shot back, continuing "The fire service say it will take at least an hour, maybe 2. His B.P. is 140/90, G.C.S of 13 and he's had 10mg of morphine. He's trapped by his left leg and has a compound fracture tib and fib. The position of the car is unstable. They've managed to secure it so we have access but the minute they try and free him… They are waiting for some specialist equipment. Truth be told you might have to amputate. It's a bit of a mess but he doesn't seem to have lost too much blood yet, but as you'll soon see it's rather difficult to tell."

"Hiya love." Dixie looked round as she approached and moved out of Sam's way.

"David, this is Samantha, she's a doctor, she'll look after you."

"Don't leave!" David said quickly sounding stressed and Dixie exchanged a look with Jeff.

"That's alright, I'm not going anywhere, I've just moved so the doctor can get a better look."

Sam assessed him rapidly, she quickly realised the leg was a lost cause. The best course of action would be to amputate and get him out of there quickly before shock sent his B.P. into the toilet.

"David how are you doing?" She asked, wishing she was speaking to a soldier instead of a civilian.

"Ok. Do you know how Sam and Laura are?" Sam looked at Dixie and she shook her head and said out loud.

"They both got to the hospital okay but I don't know anything else. The doctors are busy assessing them. I'll see if Jeff can find out how they are doing. Samantha?" she gestured and Sam slithered out of her position on the roof of the car and followed her a little distance away where Jeff was talking on the radio.

"You were right." Sam addresses Jeff. "That leg is gone. I need to amputate and we need to get him out of there before he crashes. He seems to trust you Dixie. Help me convince him?" Dixie nodded and Jeff started off in the direction of the ambulance. "I'll start getting ready and let the firemen know."

"Have you done this before?" Dixie asked.

"Yeah." Sam replied trying not to think of the last time she had performed this procedure.

"Okay David, I've had a good look at your leg and it's trapped and badly crushed. The bones are broken in a few places. I know you have had pain relief and you might feel okay but we are afraid that your blood pressure is in danger of dropping so much it will make you very ill. It's your leg that's keeping you here."

"What do you mean?" He cried out anxiously "Do you mean you want to… to chop it off?" He choked on the words.

"Yes," Sam started and David started moaning "No, No."

Dixie was there immediately, "David love, you have to calm down please, calm down, listen to what Samantha is saying."

He looked pained but he went quiet.

"The leg is very badly damaged. I think the best course of action is to amputate here. That will free you and we can get you straight to the hospital where Sam and Laura are."

"Samantha is my daughter's name you know. We call her Sam though. God, it's all my fault. We were having an argument, Laura and I and I let my attention wander for a second, what have I done? I've wrecked everything, first my marriage and now this. Please can you find out how they are?"

"Listen David, what happened was an accident but your wife and daughter need you now. Will you agree to the operation?"

"I don't know. I don't, have you done this before?"

Sam swallowed a sigh. "I've done this ten times before, I'm an army doctor. The last time was in Nahr-e Saraj in Afghanistan in the middle of an American air strike. Look, you'll be okay, but you have to trust me when I say this is your only hope."

His breathing was becoming distressed and he shook his head then nodded. "Yes, alright, for Sam. Please don't make me watch though."

"That's great David. Of course you don't have to watch." She beckoned Jeff over.

"That's a go." She said and prepared her instruments and David, letting Dixie monitor his vitals while Jeff assisted her.

She went for a below knee amputation, conscious that it would need to be tidied up in a real theatre anyway and wanting to give them more viable tissue to create a stump. The surgeons would probably retreat to above the knee as it tended to be easier to fix prosthetics.

"I've been such an idiot. Laura and I, we've been having problems and it was like she didn't even care anymore. I only asked for a divorce to get a reaction from her, anything. I didn't want her to say yes." David was obviously frightened but his monologue was cutting a bit too close to home for Sam, distracting her. She tried to give Dixie a pointed look but the paramedic was occupied and didn't see her.

"Are you married?" Sam made the first cut and wished she could lie but she couldn't do that to Dylan in front of Dixie and Jeff.

"Yes I'm married but it's difficult." David shifted, obviously just about keeping his panic under control. She had to keep him calm.

"Why is it difficult?" He asked.

She considered how much she was willing to share. "It's hard for him." She hesitated. "I made a commitment to the army before I met him. It's not easy to watch someone you love risk their lives and it's even harder to watch them go off to a war zone for six months leaving you on your own. He never said anything but I knew, every phone call, every knock on the door, he was waiting. He doesn't watch the news anymore."

"He must be proud of you though." David said.

Sam shook her head then remembered he couldn't see her face. "No. He doesn't care about that stuff. He thinks it isn't worth it. The first time I told him he said I was just a thrill seeker."

Sam was surprised how much it hurt to admit that out loud. Sensing how this conversation was distracting Sam, Dixie stepped in, asking David about his daughter.

Sam worked calmly and rapidly, conscious that with every second David's crash was getting closer and that if that happened they needed to be able to scoop and run. At last she was finished and they were able to get David out of his seat and onto the spinal board and into the ambulance where their luck ran out. He crashed and his heart stopped and she and Jeff spent the ambulance ride doing compressions. They finally got him into a shockable rhythm outside the E.D.

When Sam, Zoë and Tess had David stabilised and waiting for the surgeon to see him, Sam stayed with him as he returned to consciousness. Dylan and Lloyd were still with David's wife in Bay 2. Sam knew she should go and find out how his daughter was but she couldn't leave him. He would probably make it; unlike the last man she had performed this procedure on, a 19 year old with his whole life ahead of him.

It hadn't been her fault he had died, he had been severely injured when his vehicle hit an IED and Sam was not one to go looking for guilt, but some patients just stayed with you. She had liked him and had tried to keep him talking, told him all about her grumpy sweet husband and his mischievous dog. He had told her all about his girlfriend and how he planned to leave the army and go travelling with her after his tour. Australia, New Zealand, the great barrier reef. She put her head in her hands. Sometimes she really missed being normal.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2006_

_Dylan was already halfway through a bottle of wine when his doorbell rang. He usually refused to answer the door because it was never for him, but the person was persistent and he vaguely remembered Jack saying he was staying over at a friends tonight._

_He swung open the door, expecting to have to disappoint some ex of Jacks that had come seeking some fun. Instead Sam was standing there, her arms crossed in front of her. She looked nervous._

_He stared at her for a moment, and then moved aside for her to enter. _

"_I thought we already got our stories straight." Dylan said, sitting down on the sofa heavily and reaching for his glass of wine._

_She tilted her head and regarded him coolly. "So you're a quitter are you?"_

_He looked at her in astonishment. "You don't seriously expect to continue our relationship after today, do you?"_

"_Why not?" She challenged. "I'm only with you for three weeks, the hospital is unlikely to find out and as far as I can see we are both consenting adults."_

"_What about the fact that you failed to mention you've signed away your life for the next 8 years?" Dylan exploded without warning._

_Sam took off her coat and threw it onto a chair. "It's not that bad is it? I didn't sell my soul or anything. Most of my friends would love to take my cadetship off my hands."_

"_Most of your friends are twenty-one. They don't know how they'll feel in three or four year's time, when they want to build a career, a relationship and a family." Dylan fell silent and took a big gulp of wine, embarrassed at his outburst._

_She walked off into the kitchen and came back with a glass. She poured herself some wine and sat next to him on his sofa like she belonged there. She seemed to be struggling with what to say._

"_Listen Dylan, it was exactly what I needed, and by the way just signing up to medical school commits you to god know's how much training so it's not that different. Given the field I want to specialise in it made sense. And, the salary… look I'm not one of those public school, Daddy pays for everything kind of girl, okay. I needed this. I worked hard, I made it past unbelievably tough selection and I'm proud of it. Don't you dare and try and make me feel like its wrong." _

_She was angry now and Dylan suddenly felt like a bastard because that was exactly how he had been trying to make her feel. Being with her had felt like a beginning where everything was possible and now it seemed her future was already decided, he had to decide whether to fit in or not._

_He put the wine glass down and sat there staring at the dead TV, trying to decide what to do. She let him think in silence, putting her own wine down after a couple of sips._

"_It's not weird is it?" He finally came out with._

"_What?" She asked, confused._

"_I'm ten years older than you. You're not secretly lusting after some student with a love for indie music baggy jeans and gelled hair are you?"_

_She laughed and hit him on the arm, her anger forgotten as soon as it had come._

"_I'm here aren't I?" She said leaning into kiss him softly on the lips. She pulled away. _

"_I hope you're not always this grumpy." Then she laughed and pulled him back to her._


	3. Chapter 3

I thought I wouldn't write today, turns out I lied. Saw our year tutor yesterday and she casually dropped into the conversation the essay we thought was due in on Tuesday is actually due on Friday. Score!

Still gutted at the lack of casualty on Saturday, thanks to the reviewers who let me know at least Sam is in the next one, even if we do have to wait a week.

Thanks for all the reviews and alerts, makes my day receiving those emails and helps me to figure out if I'm going the right way.

Once again

_Dylan – Past – Italics _

Sam and Dixie,-Present – Normal text.

Also today, I couldn't resist a bit of a twist on a hospital fiction cliché!

Warnings for troubling/ triggering issues.

Once again, all the medical stuff is cobbled together from bits I know and Wikipedia, so don't judge me too much if you see something glaringly ridiculous.

Please Review!

* * *

The Damage we do – Chapter 3

_Plymouth 2008_

"_Well this is a new situation." Dylan opened sarcastically._

_Sam scrunched up her face and groaned. She looked back down at the letter she held in her hand and Dylan could tell she wasn't far off the head-on-desk level of despair. _

"_So let me get this straight Doctor Nicholls. For your third placement of your F1 year, Her Majesties British Army has seen fit to assign you to my E.D. Under my direct supervision. And then, after three months of pretending we don't know each other, **again**, you're off to Germany for three months. Wonderful." _

"_Somebody somewhere hates me." Sam mumbled from her position with her head in her hands._

"_I'm thinking about getting a dog. What do you think?" Dylan sat back in his chair with his arms crossed and watched Sam across the table. Her phone beeped and she picked it up listlessly. _

"_Oh, Asta got you too."_

"_Asta?" He asked in confusion. Sam rolled her eyes,_

"_You know, Astrid, the other student the first time we danced this particular dance? Pretty, South African, likes old people?"_

"_Oh. Just like old times then." Dylan replied dryly._

"_Why do you have a sudden desire to get a dog?" Sam gave in and asked._

"_Well it appears I will be spending a substantial amount of time on my own. I may as well have some intelligent company."_

"_Are you comparing me to a dog?" Sam asked in a dangerous tone._

_Dylan's eyes widened as he sensed danger. "No. NO! What I meant is **we **should get a dog."_

_Sam regarded the flat where Dylan had lived for four years and where she had moved into when Jack had moved out. "This flat is too small for a dog. We would have to get a bigger place, a house, with a garden." She paused, confused. "This is turning into a bigger conversation than I anticipated" _

"_We are not buying a house." Dylan said emphatically, shocked._

_Sam sat back in her chair and a flash of hurt was visible on her face before she replaced it with an unreadable expression. _

"_Right. My mistake." She picked up her plate and mug from the table and walked away into the kitchen. Good one Keogh, Dylan thought to himself. _

* * *

Holby, 2012

David woke up after another 10 minutes, and after making sure that the blood and electrolytes were doing their job and the femoral nerve block was topped up, Sam finally went to see how his daughter was getting on.

She walked into paeds resus where Mr Jordan and Tom were looking at a MRI and an X-ray of the little girl's vertebrae. Sam peered at the light box. There were two clear fractures to the transverse processes of two vertebrae in the lumbar region, L4 and L5 and the MRI already showed significant swelling.

"Her dad wants to know how she is. He's still in resus" She addressed the room, unsure which of them would be taking the lead.

"I'll be in to talk to him now." Mr Jordan nodded to her sombrely.

Sam nodded and left, wincing at the memory of the MRI film. David would probably never forgive himself.

* * *

Dixie spotted Dylan walking towards the reception desk and considered what she had heard Sam say earlier. She liked the fearless young doctor; there was never a dull moment with her around.

Jeff was still talking, but as she turned to him he saw where her attention was headed.

"I'll only be a minute love, get us a coffee would you?" She said casually.

"Are you sure you want to do that Dix? I'd bet you a fiver he won't appreciate it." Jeff warned.

"I don't care." She decided, "I'm a big girl and if she's wrong about him being proud of her he needs to tell her before she goes. Was I the only one who didn't like the way she was talking?"

Jeff grimaced in agreement and walked away from her, "See you in a minute."

"Can I have a word Dr Keogh?" Dixie cornered him at the reception desk "It's about Sam.?"

He didn't even look up. "What my wife does or doesn't do is no longer my concern. It won't be yours for much longer either."

"It's not about what she did. It's about what she said." She had his attention and he looked up at her curiously.

"It's just… she thinks when she goes away, all the things she does with the army…" Dixie struggled to say it. "She said you think what she does is worthless. She said you're not proud of her."

Dylan stared at her in shock for a moment "That's, that's not…" He seemed to recover his equilibrium. He nodded at her and strode away in the direction of resus.

Dixie nodded at the space where he had been and returned to wait for Jeff and her coffee feeling slightly better.

* * *

Sam watched Dylan as he re-entered resus. "Can you talk to my patient about his wife?"

Sam hoped it was better news as Mr Jordan had already informed him of his daughter's possible life changing injury.

"David, this is Dr Keogh, your wife's doctor." She introduced him. Dylan didn't speak straight away but instead seemed to be giving her a considering look. Sam frowned, confused at her husband's strange behaviour.

"How is she?" David asked anxiously, oblivious to the silent interplay between the couple.

"We've cleared her of a spinal injury and we are reasonably sure the head injury is just a minor concussion, we have sent her for a CT just to make sure. The injury to the hand is the main problem. She is going to need surgery to reconstruct it. All in all she has been very lucky." David seemed to deflate with relief. Sam topped up his morphine as he was showing signs of pain and he dropped off to sleep.

Dylan didn't move, just stood there at the foot of the bed. Sam turned to look at him, wondering what was coming.

"Dixie talked to me. She seemed to have some ridiculous idea that you think I'm not proud of you for serving in the army."

"Is it ridiculous?" Sam couldn't look at him and turned back to her patient, aware that if she met his eyes he could read her like a book, see her need for him to deny it.

"Yes." He paused, stepping closer so he stood by her side. "I've always been proud of you Samantha."

She felt enormously relieved and almost joyful. She had never realised just how much his hostility to the army had hurt her, had been a constant barrier in their relationship. She turned around to see his face but he was gone, all she saw was his back and the swinging of the resus door as he went.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2008_

"_Great." Dylan exclaimed sarcastically as all the lights went out. "It's all right; the backup generator should kick in after 10 seconds." The resus team waited expectantly but the darkness was unbroken. Sam's eyes met his across the patient's bed and he knew his partner well enough to recognise the beginnings of panic._

"_Keep an eye on her pressure Sam. James, get on to maintenance and if you see Dr Donald out there send her in. Asta, check the battery levels on this equipment." He strode over to the window and looked out. "It's just us. The rest of the hospital is on back up."_

"_She's going to crash soon. We have to get her somewhere with power." Sam told him keeping her voice level despite the fear he knew she was feeling._

"_What do you suggest Sam? She's unstable and we can't use the lift. She certainly won't survive being lugged up the stairs like overweight luggage." Dylan thought out loud._

"_How do you know we can't use the lift? The backup generators in the rest of the hospital are working. What are the odds the system that powers the lift is located in the E.D.?" _

"_Battery levels are good on everything. We should have at least an hour." Asta said calmly as James ran back in and slid to a halt in front of Dylan._

"_It's a right mess out there." He said with a note of stress in his voice. "Dr Donald isn't here and maintenance says they have no idea what's wrong but we are the priority. There's something else." The nurse paused and two more of the E.D. doctors rushed in to resus._

"_What?" Dylan questioned impatiently._

"_We need you, Sam and Asta. Chris and Simon can take over here, I've given them her history." James was an experienced nurse and Dylan trusted him enough to have bothered to learn his first name so he ripped off his gloves and made for the door, Sam and Asta following him without question._

"_It's the lift, it's like its still got power but it's stuck somehow. There's a woman stuck in it, she's looks around 30-34 weeks pregnant." _

_Dylan rolled his eyes, "And of course she's in labour."_

"_Yes but that's the least of her problems. She's haemorrhaging. Sam and Asta are the only doctors small enough to get through the gap. It's the small patient lift though so you'll only have room to send one of them." _

_They reached the lift and Dylan took in the tight, black space. Sam was standing close to him, closer than she would normally dare at work. He could practically feel her shaking. His decision was an easy one. _

"_Asta, you have trouble with small spaces?" He turned to her quickly._

"_Ah… no." She said scrambling to catch up. She looked at Sam, but Sam was focused on the gap in front of her._

"_Good, you're going in. Let me have a good look first." He crouched down to the gap and took the torch one of the porters handed to him. Its wide beam illuminated an obviously pregnant young woman in pyjama's and dressing gown. She lay in a pool of blood and her pyjama bottoms were soaked with it. She was crying and clearly in pain._

"_Hello, I'm Dr Keogh; can you tell me your name?"_

"_Hannah. It hurts!" She sobbed back at him. _

"_Okay Hannah, I'm going to send down my colleague Dr Nugamu. She is going to help you."_

_He turned to the black doctor and realised she was scared. She was looking pleadingly at Sam who was still looking at the gap in the lift as if it was going to swallow her whole. There was nothing he could do about it; Asta would just have to pull herself together. He knew she could do this and she was the best hope Hannah and her baby had._

"_Asta, it's a bit of a drop, Mr Murray and I will lower you down and I'll toss you down the kit. She needs you, you'll be fine." The porter looked at him with an odd expression and Dylan realised that he had worked alongside him for four and a half years and had never before given any indication he knew his name._

"_Sam. Sam!" Dylan said sharply and her attention snapped back to him, her eyes wide. "Get onto labour ward, I think we found something they lost. Get a history, and see if they have any skinny obstetricians or midwives they would be willing to donate to us."_

_She visibly pulled herself together and nodded, disappearing to the nearest phone._

_Asta slid into the gap feet first, Dylan and the porter steadying her so she made a controlled drop onto the lift floor. She recovered quickly and Dylan dropped the supplies James had collected down to her. _

_Asta set to work assessing Hannah though Dylan was privately concerned about the young doctor. She had none of the easy manner she usually used with patients and was hesitating over things she should have learned backwards in medical school. _

_Sam rushed back and dropped down to the floor next to Dylan. "Maternity are treating her for a grade 2 placental abruption. They think she sneaked off for a fag."_

"_Well it's a grade 3 now. Bloody smokers. Okay. Are they sending anyone or are they all fat up there?"_

_Sam gave him an exasperated look. "They've got a midwife and registrar running down 10 flights of stairs now. I've phoned down for some blood, Gurpreet's gone for it."_

"_Great. Okay Asta, Hannah has been diagnosed with a grade 2 placental abruption which has obviously progressed to grade 3. We have some blood on the way but the best thing you can do is deliver the baby quickly. The obstetrician is on the way and until then I'll talk you through it." Dylan was not expecting the blank look that came from Asta. It was followed by a look of anguish._

"_Oh my god! She's going to die isn't she?" It was one of the worst things he had ever heard a doctor say to a patient. Hannah screamed and pushed Asta away and Asta collapsed against the opposite lift wall._

"_I can't help her, she's going to die. All I hear is crying, crying, crying. Make it stop!" Sam drew in a sharp breath next to him. Dylan could only stare aghast as one of his F1's disintegrated from calm confident doctor to crying mess in less than 10 seconds. _

_Sam shouted quickly "Hannah, don't listen to her, your going to be okay, I'm coming down to you." Dylan turned to look at Sam and met her eyes. _

"_I can do this. Once I'm in get Asta out of there. It's not her fault." Dylan nodded and he and the porter lowered Sam down into the dimly lit lift. Asta's dropped torch the only light available. _

"_Hannah, Hannah, its okay, she's wrong, I'm going to look after you, you're going to be fine."_

"_Asta, get up, Dylan and Jason are going to pull you out. Please, now."_

_Asta scrambled to her feet, still sobbing and reached up into Dylan and the porters waiting arms. They heaved her up and as soon as she was out she regained her feet and ran off down the corridor._

"_Get after her," Dylan snapped at a nurse and refocused on his now traumatised seriously ill patient and her baby. By the time the obs registrar got there and the power was restored, Sam had set up the blood transfusion and the baby was nearly out. The restored power seemed to free the lift and the midwife and obs registrar rushed in and took over from Sam. _

_Sam escaped from the lift with a sigh of relief and Dylan couldn't help putting his hand over hers as she leaned back against the wall, pale and shaking. Dylan noticed a health care assistant watching them but he took no notice. _

_Sam took a moment and then pulled her head from the wall and held Dylan's eyes._

"_We need to find Asta. She's not well."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_She told me once, when we were drunk… she had a baby when she was fifteen. A little girl called Clare. Her parents made her give her up for adoption. She said sometimes she still hears her crying. I thought she was coping… we need to find her" Sam insisted._

_Dylan nodded and removed his hand from hers as though he had just remembered where he was. _

_They rushed through the E.D, Sam thought Asta might have gone home. The nurse Dylan had sent after her caught his eye. "Where is she?"_

"_She hasn't left the E.D. She told me to give her some time alone; she was in the locker room when I saw her last."_

"_Thanks." Dylan muttered absently and they headed in the direction of the locker room. They burst in but she wasn't there. Sam turned abruptly and rushed out of the room, leaving her partner no choice but to follow her. _

_She headed into the ladies and he followed her, not particularly giving a shit about gender segregation at this point in time. He was glad he did as he saw the massive pool of bright red blood seeping out under one of the cubicle doors. Sam let out a sob and tried to kick in the door but her friend seemed to have all her weight against it. Before Dylan could do anything she scrambled into the next stall and used the cistern to jump up and over the top into Asta's stall. He heard a click and the door opened. _

_Sam was desperately trying to apply pressure to her friends neck, where she had slashed her carotid artery. A 10 blade lay abandoned on the floor next to her outstretched hand._

"_I need some help in here!" Dylan yelled as he dragged Asta flat and listened for her breath sounds. There were none and he started performing CPR. A nurse appeared at the door and covering her mouth with her hands she rushed away and the room was soon swarming with doctors and nurses lifting Asta onto a trolley. Through it all Sam stayed in the same position, determinedly applying pressure to her fellow F1's artery._

_They tried for 45 minutes to get her back, they gave more than their best but she had been serious about it and she'd done a good job. There had been no hesitation._

_The resus team was willing to call it but Sam was still holding on, unwilling to accept her friend of five years was dead._

"_Sam." Dylan said softly. _

"_No. Go again." She said nearly choking. Dylan knew it wouldn't take much to send her over the edge._

"_Sam" He tried again. She just shook her head, unable to speak. He gently reached around her and pulled her hands off Asta. She didn't resist him._

_He steadied her back against him and wrapped his arms around her so she was pulled to his chest. _

"_Asta's gone, darling." He whispered and she turned around and buried her devastated face in his chest. _

_The rest of the resus team watched them blankly, shocked and upset at their failure to save one of their own and shocked by the behaviour of their normally stoic Dr Keogh toward one of their colleagues._


	4. Chapter 4

The Damage we do – Chapter 4

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! All assignments done now, just an OSCE and a clinical exam left and I'm done for the summer. Woo Hoo!

Abbreviations -

RAVC – Royal Army Veterinary Corp

CPS – Crown Prosecution Service

As usual:

Sam – present – normal text

Dylan – past - italics

Just watched the preview for episodes 31-42 on YouTube and there are some scenes in there I really can't wait to see.

* * *

_Plymouth 2008_

"_And then what happened Dr Keogh?" Dr Donald asked, making further notes as she did so. _

"_I assessed the resources available to me, namely Dr Nugamu and Dr Nicholls. Dr Nicholls had not been reacting well to the lack of lighting in resus. I had to keep giving her things to focus on. Dr Nugamu was calm. I made the decision to send her into the lift. I asked her if she was claustrophobic, she said no." _

"_Did she give any indication that she didn't want to go into the lift?" The police detective asked, also making notes._

"_She didn't say anything. She may have looked a bit scared, but I would have considered that normal. It was an unusual situation. I told her she would be fine. I honestly thought she would be. She was an extremely competent doctor. She had time, to back away, to say no. She didn't." _

_He remembered her pleading eyes, directed at Sam, who had been oblivious, caught up in her own terror. She must have expected Sam, who had possessed all the pieces of the puzzle, to realise her problem but the army medic had issues of her own and had failed to see the approaching crisis. Asta had expected Sam to jump in front of her with excitement like she always did when anything remotely interesting happened. She must have been shocked when she didn't._

_Dylan had seen this but distracted with his concern for Sam and the patient and faced with the knowledge that there was no one else, he had sent her anyway._

"_Do you think your personal relationship with Dr Nicholls had any bearing on which one of them you sent into the lift?" The detective shot at him._

"_What do you mean?" Dylan snapped back defensively, uncomfortable at the look of realisation on Dr Donald's face. _

_The detective moved from his relaxed stance against the window of Dr Donald's office and moved to tower over him. "Dr Nicholls was the obvious choice, she had been extensively tested for her reactions under pressure by the army and she had faced more unorthodox emergency situations during her army training. Why didn't you send her, Dr Keogh?"_

_Dylan swallowed. "She was pale, she was shaking and her pupils were dilated. She was at risk of a panic attack. I was afraid going down would send her over the edge. Dr Nugamu was the better choice at the time." _

_The police detective raised his eyebrow. "And yet, from all accounts it was Dr Nicholls who later successfully went into the lift and stabilised the woman."_

_Dylan rose frustrated. "The situation was different then. She was concerned for Dr… Asta. Asta was her friend, she would have walked through fire for her. Her panic for Asta overrode her fear of the lift."_

"_What exactly is your relationship with Dr Nicholls, Dr Keogh"? The detective pushed, sensing he had Dylan rattled._

_Dylan looked back at Dr Donald. "That's irrelevant. We are both perfectly capable of being professional."_

"_A young woman who was your responsibility has died Dr Keogh. Don't play games. I've spoken to a number of people who say you were being very familiar with Dr Nicholls earlier. They said you called her 'darling'" The detective had the air of a predator that had just pulled the trap shut on its prey._

_Dr Donald looked at Dylan in amazement. There was no reason to hide it any longer. _

"_Samantha is my partner." He admitted._

"_How long?" Dr Donald jumped in._

"_Two and a half years." Dylan answered honestly, even knowing the implications._

_Dr Donald looked appalled. "She was your student!"_

"_For three weeks!" Dylan exploded. "I already knew her when she was assigned as my student."_

"_Why didn't you say anything Dylan?" Dr Donald's face creased in disappointment._

"_She was much younger than me and a medical student. I was embarrassed. I didn't want my personal life being gossiped about around the hospital. I thought I'd lose my job."_

"_You still might." Dr Donald said angrily. "Astrid Nugamu was your responsibility. If you missed this girl's cry for help because you were too preoccupied with your girlfriend, I'll make sure your career is over."_

"_Is there going to be any police action over Dr Nugamu's death?" Dr Donald turned back to the detective._

_He considered Dylan for a long while. "No." He said finally. "I've spoken to her parents and they have confirmed the story about the baby that Astrid told Dr Nicholls. She had been seeing a doctor in South Africa for depression, a fact that has been confirmed by several other university friends. She tried to kill herself before, with pills in her own country. I'm recommending to the CPS that there's no case to answer here. She was just ill." _

_He turned to look at Dylan as he left. "You people are supposed to be a bit better at spotting it than us mere mortals you know."_

_Dylan sat down in the chair in front of Dr Donald's desk and hid his face with his hands. _

"_What now?"_

"_Did she ever tell you about her baby? Did she ever display any problem with treating mothers, babies or children?"_

_Dylan shook his head "She… no. She made no secret of the fact she preferred older patients and there's no shortage of them in the E.D. She definitely never refused to treat a patient. But I don't ever remember signing off on a baby or mother that she treated. She must have swapped them with the other F1's. I didn't notice."_

"_This is her third F1 placement and obviously she did observations in med school. Nobody else noticed either. God Dylan the last thing I want to do is blame you for her death. I don't think you have it in you. But we were all her senior's and we all missed it." Her initially anger seemed to have subsided as she considered her subordinate. _

"_This mess will need to go to the GMC. The death of a trainee, how could it not." She sighed. "Go home, take Dr Nicholls home. We'll sort this mess out tomorrow."_

* * *

Holby, 2012

Sam was in the locker room grabbing her stuff when Linda and Lenny came in.

"You off?" Linda asked.

"Yeah. Hard work being a superhero." Sam said with half an eye on Lenny who gave her a mock disgusted look.

"Listen we were thinking, Friday after work we should all go out. Send you off in the proper Holby way."

"The proper Holby way, what's that, laid out drunk and with a tattoo I never wanted?" Sam eyed them suspiciously.

Linda and Lenny exchanged calculating looks. "Nah, by Saturday you'll have your gun back and I still have a life to live so no tattoos. Just a couple of drinks, Linda, me, Jeff, Dixie, Tom, and whoever else is off Friday night that we manage to round up. Actually it really is a Holby tradition. Jeff usually sings and everything!" Lenny grimaced. "Well maybe that's not so much a selling point but still we should do something, six months is a long time."

Sam laughed. "Okay, Friday then." She went to put her headphones in and stopped. "Jeff, he's not that bad is he?"

Lenny didn't say anything, but his involuntary wince said it all. Sam made a face and put her headphones back in, leaving feeling a bit happier than when she had entered the locker room.

She felt that a good night out before deployment was exactly what she needed. Funnily enough now, at the point when she was nearly leaving, was the most comfortable she had felt with her colleagues. Jeff and Dixie she had bonded with immediately, the same with Tom. Linda and Lenny she had been initially been more wary of as she still had no idea which of the partners in crime had got hold of her wedding photo and had prompted that awful moment when Dylan had told her he was miserable throughout their marriage. But their playfulness had made her laugh almost every day and Linda especially had supported her unquestioningly when Keith Parr had reported her to the GMC.

Even so it was only really going back after her fitness to practice hearing that she really felt she was part of the team. When Dylan had told her on the first day they worked in Holby together that he wanted to keep their past relationship quiet, it had felt devastating, like a massive step backwards. When their relationship became public in Plymouth it had felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders despite the circumstances. Sam knew she wasn't the best liar and she was proud of it, she preferred to face her problems head on and she certainly didn't like to lie to people who she needed to rely on to do her job.

That one stupid suggestion at the beginning of her relationship, to hide their connection when she had first been assigned to Dylan as a med student seemed to have become a pattern for their relationship. The worst thing was she knew it was a bad idea this time, but Dylan had asked and she couldn't refuse him anything, not after what she had done to him by cheating.

She hoped by giving him what he wanted it would be a step to fixing things, but instead it seemed to force them further apart when she had been the one to have to own up to their connection. Now it seemed that all they were doing was hurting each other. It had been clear that one of them had to leave and Sam was used to moving on. She had a job she loved just as much as this one to go to and it was only fair she go. She was only in Holby because of him and as much as she liked the friends she had made in Holby it was clear that he had rebuilt his life and she was not a part of it.

There were moments like in resus earlier when he had told her he was proud of her, like when she had been trying to give him the divorce papers and he had booked a table at a restaurant which completely confused her. It would probably be better for her too if she was away from here. He meant too much to her for her to tolerate the uncertainty any longer.

* * *

Coming in on Wednesday Sam was met immediately by a higher than usual level of noise and people. There was some sort of V and D virus going around and the wait for minors was correspondingly huge as a result. People were everywhere she looked and the only thing they had in common was that they were not happy. Sam got stuck in at speed and was just about to see her next patient when she saw Dylan looking in an annoyed way at a patient who was just being brought in by the paramedics. The patient obviously spoke no English; in fact Sam could hear it sounded like Farsi, one of the languages of the local people she had treated in Afghanistan. She left her task and followed, knowing Dylan spoke no other languages but French and some public school Latin, all completely useless to him as he hated both France and classics. Scarlett was trying to calm the frightened patient down and Jeff was doing handover as Dixie was trying to persuade her to scoot over to the bed.

Dylan sighed. "Any idea what language she speaks?"

"No idea mate" Jeff replied. "I've been doing my best mime work just to get her to sit still."

"I think it's Farsi" Sam interrupted. "Salaam." She tried and the old lady fixed on her immediately with relief, pouring out a torrent of woes which Sam was hard placed to make sense of.

"Well I suppose you'd know wouldn't you. I'll leave this one to you since you need the practice." Dylan said grumpily and stalked out.

Jeff and Dixie exchanged a look, got their stuff together and made a hasty retreat. Scarlett explained to Sam what Jeff had said during handover and luckily Scarlett was one of those people who didn't seem to need words to comfort the lady. Sam in halting Farsi, which she had been revising in her breaks all week, ascertained that the woman had wandered out of her son's house and then became confused and distressed when she couldn't find her way back and had bumped her leg. She had a nasty laceration to her left leg which Sam stitched up quickly, trying not to dwell on Dylan's obvious anger towards her.

* * *

Dylan avoided her for the rest of the week, except for a brief moment on Thursday. They had been walking in different directions through reception when the news flash of a UK soldier killed in Afghanistan had come up on the BBC News channel on the reception TV.

They both stopped and turned to look at the TV and Sam could have sworn she had seen a brief flash of fear on his face before he looked away and resumed his course. She remained looking at the screen, allowing herself to feel that familiar anxiousness before she pulled herself together. If it was someone she knew she would soon find out and she didn't need to go looking for it.

* * *

Friday morning Sam entered the E.D. with a mixture of relief and regret, she would miss Holby and the team but now she had decided she was going she just wanted to get out there and get on with it. She would miss Dylan most of all though and she really didn't want to leave it like this.

Sam wasn't particularly superstitious but Dylan had always told her good luck before a tour and she had always come back. It was the only bit of sentimentality she allowed herself and she was worried that Dylan wouldn't think it was important this time, or would be too angry to say it.

As she shipped a patient off to one of the wards she caught sight of a familiar person talking to Noel at the front desk.

"Jess!" She called and the fair young woman turned to her. Sam saw a blonde haired child of about four was with her.

"Sam! I didn't know you were here! I came to see Dylan."

"Well I'll just have to find him for you, won't I. This can't be Millie?" Sam leaned down to the little girl, who stared back at her fearlessly.

"Yeah, she's getting so big now. Millie, say hello to your Auntie Sam." Sam looked up at Jess for a moment before covering her discomfort by smiling at the little girl.

"And where's your other mummy then?" Jess looked troubled. "That's why I wanted to talk to Dylan. She deploys next week for 6 months with Task Force Helmand."

Sam winced. "So do I." She admitted. "I didn't know Carly was due to go back so soon?"

"Someone dropped out and she and Charlie are the only ones who can take their places." Jess looked upset and Sam privately congratulated Dylan and herself on their decision to put a hold on having children until her commitment was over. She wouldn't like to be in Carly's shoes because she knew although Millie wasn't her biological daughter Carly loved her as if she was.

"I'm going back early too." Sam confessed.

"Why on earth would you do that?" Jess said and Sam realised Dylan must not have told her how bad things had got between them.

"Would you like to find your Uncle Dylan and have a bit of an explore of the hospital?" Millie nodded her head excitedly and gave Sam a hand, still holding on to her mother with the other.

They walked towards CDU with the Millie swinging on their hands between them.

"Wait here" Sam said as they got to the doors. As she walked in she could see Dylan at the computer. "Dr Keogh, can I have a word?" Sam could read his expression and could see he really wanted to refuse but his sense of professionalism won out, barely.

"Yes Dr Nicholls?" He said as he walked out into the corridor and was confronted by a small blonde blur. "Uncle Dylan!" He caught her and pulled her up into his arms so he was on eye level with her and something caught within Sam like she was seeing something very precious and exquisitely painful at the same time.

"Hello monkey. It's good to see you! How did you get here, did you drive?" Millie laughed delightedly. "No, stupid Uncle Dylan, I can't drive. I'm too little!"

"Oh, silly me. Did you fly?" He said in a teasing tone as though they had done this many times before. For all Sam knew they could have.

"Noooo." Millie giggled.

"Did you ride a horse?" Dylan said in a confused tone and Millie watched him gleefully.

"No. Mummy drove!"

"Oh. Well that makes sense I suppose." Dylan seemed to be examining his cousin with his eyes.

"Sam would you take Millie for a walk while I talk to Jess? Would that be ok Millie? Go with Auntie Sam?" Jess didn't make any input in these plans and Sam realised she seemed very tense.

Millie seemed oblivious to the tension and nodded at Dylan before giving him a big hug. He laughed and Sam stepped forward and instead of putting her down he transferred her straight into Sam's arms.

Millie snuggled in close and as Sam's eyes met Dylan's she felt a sharp pang that she hoped wasn't visible on her face. They had made the decision about children with their heads but something deeper in Sam wished they had listened to their hearts instead as she held Millie.

Sam ripped her eyes away from his and turned to Millie who was trying to use her greater than usual height to peer in through the windows at CDU.

"Come on then. Let's go see what fun things we can find here." Sam said wracking her brains for things that would amuse a four year old.

"Who is Charlie?" She asked Millie without thinking. "Charlie is Mammy's doggie. He works with her and he's a really clever doggie. He can sniff the 'splosive thingies. He's going with Mammy to Afghan."

Sam was impressed at Millie's level of understanding and surprised at her own level of idiocy. Of course Charlie was a dog, she remembered him now, an excitable white and brown cocker spaniel with mournful eyes who was Carly's constant companion as an explosive detection dog. Carly was still with the RAVC then. She still found it amusing, Carly and Charlie. To be fair though Carly was referred to in the field as Lewis which had prompted many persistent suggestions to rename Charlie to Clark from the Superman fans among the guys.

Sam found her way to the plaster room and Millie and her spent a happy ten minutes putting Sam's lower arm in plaster and creating much mess in the process. When they left the plaster room, Millie mostly free of white dust and Sam now sporting a hot pink cast Sam wondered what to do. She had used up what could be reasonably be called a break and she had patients waiting. She decided to text Dylan and see if he was finished. She parked Millie on the desk and sent him a quick text just as Zoe walked past.

"The staff here seems to be getting younger Dr Nicholls" She said looking at Millie. "Who is this then?"

"I'm Millie Anne Keogh. Who are you?" Zoe gave Sam a startled look before she seemed to realise if this was Sam and Dylan's child she would have heard about it by now. "I'm Zoe, I work with your…." Zoe trailed off. "Aunt. Sort of." Sam explained.

"Did you do that cast?" She enquired of Millie gently.

"Yes but Auntie Sam kept fidgeting and laughing so it was hard." Millie complained.

Zoe smiled and congratulated her on a good job as Sam received a short text from Dylan to come back to reception.

"Hang on a sec!" Zoe exclaimed as Sam picked up Millie and as she turned round she saw Zoe had her phone out to take a picture.

"Say cheese Millie" Zoe instructed and Sam rolled her eyes and laughed surprisingly unbothered at the thought of the photographic evidence of the pink cast.

"Okay, done" Zoe said looking down at the photo on her phone and laughing. Sam turned and left, sure the photo of her with a pink cast and probably covered in plaster powder would be on every computer screen in the department by lunchtime.

When they found their way back to the reception area Dylan and Jess were there and Jess looked like she had been crying. Jess was Dylan's much younger cousin and had been the only member of Dylan's family Sam had got to know well, presumably because she was as much of an outcast to the Keogh clan as he was.

Jess, despite her beauty and intelligence had fallen far short of the perfect Keogh ideal, having been a heroin user since the age of sixteen. Dylan had been the only one who hadn't abandoned her and had helped her get clean and through her difficult pregnancy with Millie. Her relationship with the Carly, a typical no-nonsense welsh soldier, Jess had met through Sam, had brought stability into both Jess and Millie's life. Sadly the damage the drugs had done to Jess's heart was irreversible and she would likely need a transplant before Millie was eighteen. Consequently Dylan was very protective of his fragile little cousin and her child.

"Hiya baby." Jess greeted Millie. She laughed at Sam's cast. "Had fun did you?" "Thanks for that" she directed at Sam. "It was nice to see you."

"You too." Sam put in politely.

"Keep in touch." Dylan chided Jess as she left and Sam could detect the anxiety in his tone.

"What's going on with her?" Sam asked him, coming to stand alongside him as she watched Jess disappear out of the doors.

Dylan turned to face her and regarded her with disbelief. "You really don't have a bloody clue do you?" He shook his head and stormed off, leaving the entire reception area staring at her.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2008_

_Dylan led Sam to his jeep. She normally cycled to and from work, sometimes racing Dylan home which usually succeeded in scaring the hell out of him. Today she got in the jeep without question. She had changed her clothes, they both had but Dylan could still smell the metallic scent of the blood, there had been so much of it. _

_She was silent, sitting next to him in the car and it was unsettling. Sam was always teasing, talking, she was an appallingly annoying backseat driver and that she was quiet even when he positioned himself wrong on the roundabout on purpose said volumes about her state of mind._

_The drive home was a bit of a blur and Dylan was surprised Sam didn't get out and kiss the ground at the end of it. He was sure if she was in better sorts he would be enduring a monologue about the mirror signal manoeuvre system now. She was still silent as they got into the flat. _

_Sam just started peeling off her clothes, heading for the shower, leaving a trail of clothes across the flat. Dylan didn't know what to do, but he did know that he didn't want her out of his sight so he stripped off down to his boxers. He sat on the toilet as she showered, and when she got out she waited there wrapped in a towel as he washed too, seemingly as unwilling to leave him as he was to leave her._

_As he finished Sam walked out of the bathroom into their bedroom. Dylan thought he deserved a drink but he still couldn't leave her so he followed her as she pulled on her vest and shorts she used as pyjamas and got into bed facing away from him. He wrapped himself around her, feeling like he would do anything to protect her from this, anything to take her pain away. He was glad she was facing away from him as he felt tears making their way down his face but she suddenly turned, not meeting his eyes as she buried her face in his chest and sobbed. Dylan held onto her like she could disappear any moment, all his guilt over Asta mixed with his fear and sadness over Sam leaving._

_They both fell asleep and Dylan followed Sam when she got up a couple of hours later and sat at their table, both with industrial size mugs of coffee listening to the beginnings of the morning birdsong._

"_I upset you the other day." Dylan broke the silence. The woman he loved looked at him in confusion._

"_What do you mean?" She asked biting her lip trying to remember._

"_When I said we couldn't get a house" Sam avoided his eyes and he knew he had been spot on. "I meant… I meant that there was a step that comes before that I didn't want to skip."_

_She tilted her head in a way that suggested she didn't understand and he got up and walked towards the messy sideboard that Sam lovingly called his office. He came back with a small blue box and Dylan could see realisation dawn in his partner's eyes._

_He got down on one knee and opened the box "Samantha Nicholls. I love you so much and I can't bear to be without you. Will you be my wife?"_

_Sam smiled at him, tears in her eyes. "You pick your moments, Keogh." She looked down at the diamond ring, his grandmothers. "Yes" She answered firmly. He picked it out of the box and slid it onto her finger where it fitted perfectly._

"_She thought you were going to you know. She thought you were a nice man and you would to do it all properly. I told her you would never do something so sentimental. I'm glad I'm wrong." _

_She put her arms around him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Asta. It took her a year and a half to tell me and we spent every moment together in med school. She got really drunk and she told me in the toilets when we were out. I was really drunk too and I didn't believe her at first. Then I think I tried to comfort her by spouting some crap about it being the best thing for her baby. I didn't have a clue; I was still a kid myself. I had never loved someone as much as she loved Clare .I didn't understand then how powerful a baby's cry can be to its mother. When she said she was hearing it in her dreams I thought it was just a memory, not a sign of…. "_

_Dylan gathered her to him tighter his guilt threatening to overwhelm him again. "Asta was your friend not your patient. You were not expecting to have to diagnose her and we both have little talent for psychiatry. There was nothing we could have done." He closed his eyes and as he said it, he already didn't believe it._


	5. Chapter 5

The Damage we do – Chapter 5

So. This was **not** what I had originally planned for this story but Dylan has a mind of his own…. and then Sam did something, well you'll see what I mean. I agonised over this chapter but here goes! Thanks for all the great reviews, they really motivate me

I paraphrased what Dylan said in 'Appropriate Force' about Sam not suffering fools gladly and one scene here was inspired by a clip of a scene in the BBC preview for episodes 31-42. The letters they refer to in this chapter are the 'just in case' letters soldier's being deployed leave for their families just in case they don't come back. Once again I feel I should mention I'm not a soldier or married to one and I write what I do without any intention to offend or upset.

By the way when I was writing this I completely forgot Lenny was leaving. He's in the next couple of chapters too, oops. Perhaps I just didn't want him to leave!

Abbreviations -

PCT – Primary Care Trust.

BMJ – British Medical Journal

As always -

Sam- present- normal text

_Dylan – past - italics_

Happy diamond Jubilee! (and please review!)

* * *

Holby, 2012

Before she knew it Sam was finishing her last shift at Holby City E.D. They all gathered in the locker room where Sam was presented with a fake beard 'in case she needed to go undercover' and the most concentrated bottle of factor 50 sun lotion she had ever seen.

Sam caught Dylan's eye across the crowded staffroom. "Coming to the pub Grumpy?" She asked playfully, trying to keep the hope out of her voice as they all filed out to get the party started.

"Not my thing, as you know." He watched them all go.

"Right. Bye then." Sam said numbly not moving from her position at the door, once again feeling like someone had removed her heart and put it back wrong.

"Bye." Dylan replied coldly and charged off out of the other door.

"Coming, Sam?" Linda yelled back and Sam quickly fixed a smile on her face. She was damn well going to enjoy this night or die trying.

"Of course!" She answered, hoping she sounded normal and feeling her spirits rise slightly at the spectacle of Scarlett and Lenny already bickering over who got to wear the fake beard first.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2008_

"_What do you think she'll do?" Sam asked on the drive in. She seemed to have rallied from her shutdown last night and had already complained about his not indicating when leaving the roundabout. She hadn't cried again and she looked fine now, if a little drained. Dylan had skipped looking in the mirror, sure he didn't want to look himself in the eye yet._

"_At the very least she'll reassign all my F1's and F2's to different trainers. Hopefully you'll be able to keep your E.D. placement. I don't imagine Dr Donald will want to explain to the army why you can't stay." He paused. "It'll probably have to go to the GMC."_

_Sam shook her head angrily. "It wasn't your fault. Asta didn't seem depressed, she didn't drink excessively or take drugs, she did her job well. How were you supposed to know she would do this?"_

_Dylan thought about his student's eyes as he had sent her into the lift and said nothing._

_The E.D. still seemed a bit subdued as they arrived, like even the patients had picked up on the mood of the staff. The lift was open and working again but the ladies toilets were still out of order. Dylan and Sam walked towards the locker room conscious of everyone's eyes upon them. _

_Sam huffed next to him and pulled his hand into hers seemingly losing patience with the scrutiny. Dylan felt uncomfortable but held on, unwilling to hurt her further by pulling away. He could feel the cold metal of her ring on her fourth finger and he drew strength from the touch. _

_They left their coats and bags in their lockers and walked to Dr Donald's office. James Healey greeted them with a tense smile and Jason Murray, the porter who had helped Dylan lower Asta into the lift was also waiting outside._

_Dr Donald opened the door and motioned for them to follow her in. _

"_There's a trust lawyer and a GMC representative waiting to speak to you all. You'll go in one at a time. If we're lucky they'll decide there's no case to answer. The lawyer is confident that as Astrid failed to disclose her previous medical history the trust isn't liable for her death. They'll be talking to all the staff at some point but you four are up first because you were the ones present for the incident. These interviews are just about establishing what happened and whether supervision was according to GMC guidelines."_

"_Me, you mean." Dylan couldn't stop himself commenting. "Whether it was my fault or not."_

_Sam reached for his hand again and this time he felt unbelievably grateful she was here with him. Dr Donald looked at him closely. "The lawyer is a trust lawyer and you are an employee of the trust. He's here for you too Dylan. Use him."_

"_Mr Murray you're up first." The porter looked at James, Sam and Dylan like he wanted to say something._

"_Just tell the truth Mr Murray." Dylan said annoyed and sat down abruptly in the chair in front of Dr Donald's desk._

_He stayed sat in the same chair as one by one James and Sam left him to be interviewed. He had pretended to be interested in one of Dr Donald's latest copy of the BMJ but the truth was he flipped through the pages and he didn't remember reading any of it. _

_Sam pressed a chaste kiss to the top of his head as she was called and he didn't move to acknowledge it, just remained sitting there eyes fixed on the journal. His problem had always been that he had trouble accessing and expressing his emotions, but now he sat there as close to sheer panic as he had ever been. He was terrified. Terrified that they would say it was his fault, and terrified that they would be right._

* * *

"_Dr Keogh, you're next." Dylan rose and followed the man silently as he led him to a nearby office._

"_Richard Chapman, Legal officer Plymouth Teaching PCT. This is Andrew Davies of the GMC." Dylan shook their hands mechanically and sat down across the desk from them._

"_We understand that you have given an account of the incident to Dr Donald and the police, I have your police statement and Dr Donald's notes here. We're just going to clarify a few details."_

"_Fine." Dylan answered tonelessly. _

"_I understand you first met Dr Nugamu a few years ago." The GMC representative opened._

"_Yes, she was a third year medical student."_

_The lawyer had started a tape recorder and Dylan cleared his throat nervously._

"_Did you get to know her?" He started gently._

"_No. She was only with me for three weeks."_

"_But she was a close friend of your girlfriend wasn't she?" The GMC representative jumped in._

"_Yes. But Samantha and I enjoy our privacy. I don't know her friends well."_

"_Did you ever see her in a social setting?" Dylan thought for a moment, he vaguely remembered seeing her at Sam's graduation party which he had gotten completely steaming drunk for, mostly because he was vastly relieved he was no longer going out with a med student. _

"_Yes as part of a large group. I don't believe I spent any individual time with her. She struck me as quite reserved."_

"_Statements from her friends have indicated much the opposite."_

"_Well there you have it then. I obviously didn't know her very well at all." Dylan was unable to stop a certain amount of frustration from seeping into his voice._

"_Your girlfriend…"The GMC representative began._

"_Samantha" Dylan snapped irritated at having his relationship described like they were lovesick teenagers._

"_Samantha. She is one of your trainees at the moment, is that right? Why did you decide that was acceptable? Why did you hide your relationship from the department?" _

_Dylan tried to calm himself down and think. "I already told Dr Donald. I didn't want my personal life becoming public knowledge."_

"_And that's all?"_

"_Yes. Well no. Sam would have to have been given another placement."_

"_What would be so awful about that?" The lawyer put in._

"_Samantha is in the army. Her next placement after this is Paderborn, Germany. Next year she goes to Afghanistan. I just wanted some time with her." Dylan said finally realising why there had never been any discussion between him and Sam of doing anything other than hiding their relationship. They both must have felt the same. _

"_And you felt you were still capable of mentoring and assessing her successfully? That's a big ask for us to believe." The GMC man said levelly and Dylan realised with a jolt that most of the questions had been about Sam, not Astrid. It was her supervision they were worried about._

"_I'll give you my assessment now shall I?" He said, making an inhuman effort to reign in his temper and succeeding barely. "Dr Nicholls has a brusque bedside manner, expects all her patients to do exactly as she tells them and doesn't suffer fools gladly. She is often reckless with her own safety and she sometimes fails to consider the whole patient. She shows a lack of curiosity in regards to history taking and prefers to only treat the problem in front of her."_

"_Dr Keogh…" The GMC representative tried to stop him._

"_She is also one of the best F1's I have ever worked with. She is first in and last out, she will fight for her patients with a tenacity that is frankly frightening. She has very well developed technical skills and masters new techniques and procedures quickly. She will give a patient her all and she will not give up. That's my assessment. She is very well suited to the career she has chosen, which as you can imagine annoys me greatly. If that is inconsistent with the results of her previous placements then I agree, I should not have been supervising her."_

_The GMC man sat back in his seat and stared at Dylan for what seemed like an age._

"_You know we can't let you keep her, don't you?" He regarded Dylan almost sympathetically._

_Dylan breathed in deeply. "Yes."_

"_Good. She'll be assigned to one of the other trainers in the department. I don't feel there is any case to answer with regards to Astrid Nugamu. I will have some follow up questions for your colleagues but I think we're done." The lawyer and the GMC man both rose and Dylan shook their hands in a daze._

* * *

_He met Sam anxiously pacing in the locker room. "How did it go? What did they say?" She rushed towards him as he entered._

"_Fine. No case to answer. You're to be reassigned to another trainer in the department." _

_He walked away from Sam and faced the locker with his hand over his eyes. He felt lost when he should have felt relieved. The panicky feeling had gone but had been replaced with the black emptiness of guilt. They said he wasn't to blame but they hadn't seen her eyes, seen the confusion and sadness on her face and seen the final blankness of death on her young features. He swallowed and buried it deep. He took a deep breath and opened up his locker for his stethoscope. Back to work._

* * *

Brecon Beacons, 2012

"Major Nicholls, you have a visitor at the gate." Sam dismissed the young soldier and excused herself from the demonstration before she got into a nearby jeep to get to the front gate.

As she drove through the camp she wondered to herself, who could be visiting her? No one knew where she was, and the one person who had the resources to find out would have been allowed to walk past the checkpoints. Not that she expected her father to turn up, it would be awkward now. They just weren't part of each other's lives anymore. Sam wasn't bitter about it, he had a new family and when she had married Dylan she had made herself a new family too. That didn't mean she liked her step-mother anymore than she had when she was a teenager, but she had accepted the way her family was and moved on.

She parked beside a familiar beat up jeep and a familiar blonde man standing beside it holding a dog on a lead.

"Dylan!" She couldn't stop her happy exclamation at seeing him when she thought she wouldn't be seeing him again for months. At her approach Dervla strained at her lead to get to Sam and Dylan let her pull him forward. Sam bent down to pat her and when she rose to look at her husband he was standing very close and looking extremely uncomfortable. She decided to give him time; he had obviously come to say something.

Sam allowed herself to just enjoy the moment, he had driven all the way to Wales just to see her and he had even brought their dog. She smiled at him for a minute and then took up a position beside him leaning on the jeep. He turned his head to her and she met his gaze with a laugh and it seemed to break his silence.

"I don't want a divorce." He said, his tone level. "I want to try again. I love you." He looked so uncomfortable as he said it that Sam stared at him amazed, all laughter gone. This was what she had dreamed of when she had first come to Holby, but Dylan's distance and anger had convinced her that her marriage was too far gone to salvage and that she had hurt him far too deeply to ever be given a second chance.

Now the only man she had ever loved stood in front of her and said he wanted to stay married to her and that he loved her. It crossed her mind for a moment that it would be easier and safer to say no but she couldn't do it.

Sam made the biggest snap decision of her life. She broke out into a stupid grin and lunged for him, pulling him into a massive hug. "I love you too Grumpy." She whispered in his ear relishing the feel of him against her, feeling his larger frame relax and fold around her like they had never been apart.

He let her go slightly and leant in to kiss her and Sam was suddenly taken back to that first kiss at the altar in Plymouth, when the vicar had told Dylan to kiss his bride. The feelings that had been running through her then, she had thought it would never get any better but it didn't compare to how she felt now, being allowed to kiss him again after so long separated.

She felt like her face could break from smiling and that she couldn't be allowed to feel this happy. It was the best feeling, better than the adrenaline rush from doing something dangerous; better than doing her job, better than anything she had ever felt before.

She was still wrapped up in his arms, Dervla now sitting quietly at their feet. "How did you find me? I didn't tell you where I was going."

"I have my ways." Sam looked up at him curiously. "Alright, Jess told me where Carly was and I thought it was worth a shot."

"You drove to the Brecon Beacons because I might have been here?" She laughed. "You don't fool me Dylan Keogh. You act all ornery and awkward but I know you're a romantic at heart."

"Yes. Don't tell anyone." He looked happy despite his words and Sam felt a burst of pleasure that she had been the one to put that expression on his face.

Her eyes found the mountain in the distance. "You've been so angry all week. I thought you'd be glad to see the back of me." Sam blurted out not wanting to spoil the moment but her confusion too strong to ignore.

Dylan stiffened and she made a move to let him go but he held on to her. "I thought you going to Afghanistan would be different this time because we weren't together. But it was just as bad and I didn't even have you." He stared at the muddy track and Dervla nudged his hand as if sensing her master's mood.

"All Jess could talk about was Carly, despite her apprehension." He shook his head as if explaining any further was beyond him. He had already shared more than he had ever shared before about her deployments.

"And all you could think about was me." Sam realised with a start finally catching on that she had heard several of the staff complaining about Dylan's attitude even when Sam herself wasn't present to argue with. "I'm glad you told me." She said finally, when she deduced Dylan was finished talking.

"I had to come anyway." He said dismissively. "I didn't tell you good luck" Sam dipped her head to hide her smile.

A corporal approached them. "Major Nicholls? Lieutenant Colonel Bryant needs you to run the next demonstration."

Sam dismissed him and turned back to her husband.

"Sorry. I'll call you? I still have my phone until Saturday." She gave him one last long kiss and went to walk away from him but he pulled her back.

"Good luck." She laughed happily and walked away, still facing him.

"Dylan?"

"What, wife?" He said managing to sound as dismissive as ever.

"Rip up that paperwork we aren't going to need anymore would you?" She gave him a cheeky grin and watched him drive off, wondering how the hell she was going to wipe the smile off her face to go back to her unit.

* * *

Later that day Sam came across Carly, sadly without the adorable Charlie, on the way to lunch. The dark- haired woman was in a big group and every single one of them was covered in mud from head to toe. Despite that they seemed in good spirits.

"Major Nicholls." Carly recognised her before Sam registered her.

"Lance Corporal Lewis." She acknowledged and Carly's group left her to talk.

"I think you are responsible for a little visit I had today." Sam started and Carly smirked. "Don't know what you mean ma'am." She replied smugly.

"Dylan blamed it on Jess but I recognised your little matchmaking obsession in two seconds flat." Carly laughed.

"It's not matchmaking when you're already married. You just needed your heads knocking together. And don't count Jess out, how else do you think your husband was actually able to have a conversation about his emotions?"

"Yeah that was a bit of a shock. Been training him had she?" Sam said sarcastically.

Carly gave her a pointed look. "She's a talented girl. Anyway I need to see you later; I need that husband of yours to keep a letter for me."

Sam sighed, "Yeah, could I leave one with Jess too? I usually leave it in the house but this time it's a bit different."

Carly nodded "Sure. Here around 1900 hours?"

Sam started walking, "See you round, Miss Woodhouse!" Carly gave her superior officer a wicked look and disappeared in the direction of the showers.

* * *

"Hi you." Sam said as Dylan answered his phone later.

"Hello." Dylan said simply and Sam realised he must be at work as she could hear the characteristic sounds of the E.D. The sounds disappeared and she guessed he must have retreated into the locker room.

"I didn't dream earlier did I?" Sam said lightly, pacing her small room.

"No. When do you leave?" He asked, direct as ever.

"Saturday at 1900 hours. I'll try and call you when I get to Bastion." She smiled, "You know, I haven't booked my leave yet. When are you free?"

Dylan snorted. "Shut up, I know how this works. What are the choices?" Sam smiled wryly and looked down at the piece of paper in her hands. "Two weeks from now or the second week of September."

"September isn't as bad as I thought." He paused. "Sam, you will be careful won't you?"

Sam stopped and closed her eyes at the seriousness of his tone. "Of course I will. I have you to come back to now, don't I?"

"Yes well remember I'm not very fond of the army wife life." He sounded defensive and Sam felt awful all over again for doing this to him.

"Maybe…" She stopped herself and let her head fall back against her door. "What?" Dylan enquired curiously.

She decided to put it out there. "Maybe after this tour I will have enough time accumulated out of country to request a British posting until my commitment is up. I love this job, but I love you more and I can't do it to you again."

"You love what you do." Dylan repeated.

"I mean it. I'll look into it when I come back." She shook her head in amusement. "You know we had five months to sort ourselves out and we finally decide to get started when we are being separated for six months. That takes talent."

"I was boarding school educated. They didn't let you graduate if you were emotionally literate." Dylan said seriously and Sam smirked.

"I had a wicked stepmother." She said in a 'beat that' tone.

"Good job we ended up together. We would drive everyone else mad." Sam could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Dylan, stabbing coming in, we need you in resus." Tess's voice was recognisable in the background.

Sam sighed. "I heard that. We'll speak soon. Love you Dylan."

"Love you too." He said quietly before hanging up. She pressed her hand to her mouth in contemplation for once happy she had a letter to write.


	6. Chapter 6

The Damage we do – Chapter 6

Here is where I alter my format slightly because of Sam's deployment. From now on the flashbacks of their past are still in italics from Dylan's point of view, but the present scenes are in normal text from both Sam and Dylan's point of view. Also Charlies pov in a couple of scenes in this chapter. Thanks to bigapplecat for the suggestion about Dylan's support network and thankyou to Ficmouse and Stacey for the reviews and feedback! It might be a couple of days til the next chapter as I have an exam to pass. Still can't wait til friday for the next ep of casualty :)

Please review!

* * *

_Plymouth, 2008_

"_Whatever possessed us to plan a wedding in less than two months?" Dylan said feeling sulky from his vantage point looming over the wedding magazines spread all over their kitchen table._

"_Circumstances." Sam replied shortly. "And it's a small wedding, only 50 people and without a sit down meal, it's actually a fairly simple wedding compared to, you know, whatever's normal."_

"_You don't have a clue what's normal, do you? Dylan asked teasingly._

"_Nope." Sam said unashamedly. "Anyway, next thing is the guest list. First of all, family."_

"_Well Jessica and Millie obviously." Dylan said. "Millie can be a bridesmaid, Jess can carry her down the aisle." Sam nodded, clearly liking the idea._

"_My half sisters can be flower girls too. I think they must be about 9 and 7 years old now."_

_Dylan gave her a look. "Exactly how young is your wicked stepmother?"_

_Sam gave him a wry smile. "Not as young as me, for which I am eternally grateful."_

"_So that's six for family. Who else?" Dylan said trying to avoid the inevitable conversation. Sam tilted her head at him in contemplation. _

"_Not your mother? What about Gray? He's got a family too hasn't he?"_

_Dylan was silent internally horrified at the thought of his mother meeting Sam. That was a car crash waiting to happen. The brief appearance of his brother Gray last year had been tense enough. Even though he had only sought Dylan out to wind up the last of their grandmother's estate Sam had picked up on the atmosphere between them quickly and the clash of their diametrically opposed personalities must have confused her especially as he had been all charm to her face and completely disparaging behind her back. It had taken all his self control not to hit his brother over some of the things he had said. Truth be told it was only the thought of ending up in his own E.D. that had stayed his hand._

_He looked back at Sam and saw she was watching him carefully. "So not your mother or Gray. Right. Who's your best man?" She changed the subject smoothly and Dylan ruefully thought she knew him better than he gave her credit for._

"_Jack. He can bring a plus one, since all the bridesmaids are under ten." Sam winced and nodded, making a note. _

_They easily made the fifty guests, between Dylan and Sam's work colleagues, university friends and friends from school despite Dylan's fears at the beginning that it was too many people to plan for._

"_Why **are **all the bridesmaids under ten? Don't people usually have an older one to herd them along and make sure they don't eat the table decorations?" Sam avoided his eyes. _

"_I think three is enough. Clemency, Imogen and Millie will look good together." _

_He started, "But won't you need one to …" "No!" Sam interrupted him sharply. "Three is fine."_

_Dylan raised his eyebrows at her burst of temper. "Sorry Lieutenant Nicholls. I'll just leave you to get on with it then shall I?" He walked into the kitchen to make some tea and he could hear her in the other room slamming magazines down in annoyed way. _

_He became aware of her standing in the doorway behind him with her arms crossed in front of her. She watched him make the tea; automatically he had made enough for her too._

"_I imagined marrying you, did you know that? I'm not the most girly of women but I had the occasional daydream about being Mrs Keogh. I thought about a castle, a country house, a garden somewhere. I thought about my dress and how I would have my hair. And I thought about my maid of honour." Sam stopped and Dylan spun to face her abandoning his tea._

"_Asta." He said, feeling as though he had been extremely dense. _

_He moved towards her and she folded herself into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder. She wasn't crying, but she looked upset and Dylan cursed himself for bringing it up, however unintentionally. He knew she was still struggling with the death of her friend, judging by the nightmares that woke her sporadically. Sam felt she had to be so strong all the time. _

_It was only in the night that she was unable to control her reactions and her true feelings shone through. He was just glad that she seemed to draw comfort from him in those moments. If she pushed him away or she blamed him in anyway he didn't think he would have been able to bear it. Instead she came to him for comfort and he did the best he could._

* * *

Camp Bastion, Afghanistan, 2012

Sam waited for the phone impatiently, despite the fact that most of the servicemen and women who had got off her flight were doing the same. The flight as always had been long and boring, broken only by the amusement of the squaddies in the row in front of her who were telling a wide-eyed young journalist sitting with them progressively taller and taller stories about their previous landings at Kandahar. Sam suspected the journalist was quite disappointed when the plane touched down on the ground without incident.

Sam hated the last part of the flight the most. She always dreaded the call to don their body armour and helmets as it was swiftly followed by all the lights on the plane being completely switched off. The darkness was all around her then and Sam would have never admitted it to another living soul but she actually found the darkness more frightening than the idea of a Taliban RPG attack.

In contrast to this she found she was excited to be back in Afghanistan. She couldn't wait to get stuck into work in a couple of hours but she wanted to hear Dylan's voice before she slept. Their reconciliation was still new and she needed the reassurance that his gruff humour would give her.

She finally got to the phone and dialled his mobile quickly. She could hear it ringing for ages and finally she heard his voice. "This is Dr Keogh. Leave your message and if it's important I will get back to you."

Sam sighed. She knew Dylan was on nights all this week so they must be having a busy shift, pretty much par for the course on a Saturday night. She scrambled to assemble a coherent message. "Ah...hello it's your darling wife, just calling to say I got to Bastion okay, hope you're not too busy back home and I'll try you again tomorrow. Love you Grumpy. Bye." She kept her tone light, knowing how annoyed he would be to have missed her call. It must have been something important that kept him from answering.

* * *

Holby, 2012

"He's vomiting." Charlie said and the resus team worked as one to turn the patient still strapped to the spinal board. They lowered him back down as Dylan continued to assess him.

"Suction." Dylan ordered. "His pressures dropping" Scarlett put in. Dylan could feel his phone start to vibrate in his pocket and he cursed internally. He checked the patient's pupil response, "Right pupil is reacting sluggishly, lets get onto CT, he'll need a scan."

The patient suddenly went stiff and started to shake "I need 5mg of midazolam" Dylan ordered, trying to put the vibrating phone to the back of his mind. The phones insistent vibration ended as he was intubating the unfortunate man. The minute he got his patient stabilised and the man's airway secured he ripped off his gloves and pulled out his phone but it was too late. He stared at it in annoyance and looked up to see Charlie and Scarlett watching him.

"One moment." He excused himself before retreating to the corner of resus, close enough so he could still keep a close eye on the patient but Charlie and Scarlett couldn't hear his call.

He checked his phones screen and saw there was a missed call from an international unknown number. For a moment he thought she hadn't even left him a message but his phone vibrated once in his hands and he called his answer phone anxiously. He listened to her message in relief, happy at her light tone and at her perceptiveness over his reasoning for missing her but annoyed he had missed her call. He went back to his patient knowing that he could start marking off the days from now.

* * *

Charlie watched Dylan for the rest of shift, trying to work out how his gruff colleague was doing. He had been like a bear with a sore head for the last two weeks and then suddenly on Thursday he seemed to have sorted himself out and become a functioning part of the NHS again. Thank god too because the E.D. badly needed its staff working as a team, especially when attendances were up and those four hour targets were seeming tighter.

It had been strange earlier, it had seemed like Dylan was waiting for a phone call and Charlie had never seen that level of disdain for his own privacy. Dylan had always been very private in his dealing with his colleagues in the E.D. even to the extent of convincing Sam when she had first arrived to keep their marital status secret. He would usually never take a personal call in a patient area. There was only one thing Charlie had ever seen that could make Dylan display any emotion so blatantly in public. Sam.

Later on in the shift Dylan was looking at patient records on the computer. Charlie grabbed an accident form for the student nurse who had given herself a needle stick injury, luckily before she had used it on a patient. First, though he had a hunch to prove.

"Sam land ok?" Charlie said casually.

"Yes, Fine. Uh...what?" Dylan looked up from the computer at Charlie. He looked away again. "She called earlier." He admitted.

"Good. We all miss her and want to know how she's doing." Charlie said waiting patiently.

"I'll bear that in mind." Dylan finally gave in awkwardly.

* * *

_Hertfordshire, 2008_

_Dylan looked up at the house they had just parked in front of. It was a detached and well maintained mix of bare bricks and white washed cladding which was dazzling in the early spring sunlight. The garden was perfect and the children's swing set at one side was artistically covered with creeping vines which made it look like it had been there all along. In the drive there was a top of the range jeep and a shiny silver sports car which Dylan didn't care enough about cars to identify. _

_Dylan smiled to himself and locked his dirty jeep unashamedly. Sam was looking at the front door apprehensively and Dylan caught her hand._

"_It'll be fine." Sam smiled at him and adjusted her dress nervously, her expression making her look younger than usual. They walked up to the door hand in hand and Sam pushed the bell._

_A pretty woman in her mid forties answered the door. "Samantha. Come in. And this must be your fiancé." She accepted the flowers with a smile and placed them on the table by the door._

"_Yes, Maria this is Dylan. Dylan this is Maria my stepmother." Maria beamed at that, which confused Dylan somewhat, but he trusted Sam to have things well in hand._

"_Come through." She led them through the hallway into a large sitting room where a tall slender man with salt and pepper hair wearing a suit was standing reading a document. He put it down as soon as they entered and strode over with the unmistakeable bearing of an army officer. _

"_Charles. You must be Dylan." They shook hands politely and Charles gestured for him to sit._

"_Hello Dad" Sam said, kissing his cheek. "Where are the girls? I brought presents for them" She looked about curiously._

"_Oh they're staying at friends tonight." Maria said lightly and Sam held her expression together perfectly even though she had been looking forward to seeing her little sister's most of all._

_Dylan was beginning to get the feel of exactly why Sam had nicknamed her the wicked stepmother._

"_What a pity, we wanted to ask them in person if they would like to be bridesmaids." He said neutrally._

"_Oh I'm sure they would love to. I'll see that they get the present's sweetheart." Maria addressed Sam and relieved her of the sparkly pink bag she had been carrying. She disappeared off into the other room._

"_It was nice to hear from you Sammy. Of course work is so busy we don't seem to see as much of each other as we should. Still I'm glad you're finding time to put down some roots, it's terribly important in our line of work. I don't know where I would be without Maria and the girls." Charles said politely._

_Dylan could see Sam's expression had become rather fixed at this statement. "How did you two meet then?" Charles continued._

_Dylan could see he would get no help from Sam until she pulled herself together. "We met on a night out. My best man was making a bit of a spectacle of himself and Sam was laughing at him and I went over and introduced myself to make his apologies."_

_Sam smiled at that. "We've worked together too."_

"_Yes, Sammy mentioned you're a doctor. You're not related to the London Keogh's are you? They have a rather influential Law firm?" _

_Dylan was stunned for a moment. "Yes it's the family business. My mother and brother are the leading partners."_

_Charles nodded. "I know Gray. He's tipped to be the next Attorney General, you know. He never mentioned he had a brother though. Small world isn't it. Maria and his wife get on like a house on fire. What was her name?"_

_He looked at Dylan expectantly and Dylan was faced with the horrible scenario of admitting he didn't know his own sister-in-laws name._

"_Caroline." Sam said quickly and Dylan was unable to resist shooting her a grateful look. He saw Maria watching them calculatingly as she re-entered the room._

"_I'm glad we'll have someone we know at the wedding. It always makes these things more enjoyable." She said._

_Dylan decided enough was enough. "They aren't coming I'm afraid. I've lost touch with that part of my family."_

_Maria looked shocked, but it was a little studied for Dylan's taste. "So you won't have any family there at all?" He realised where she was going with this and it didn't look promising. _

"_Actually my cousin and her daughter will be there. Her daughter Millie is just five months, I'm sure your girls and Millie will be adorable bridesmaids together."_

"_Your cousin? Not Jessica?" Maria said affecting a scandalised tone. "But Dylan, Caro has told me all about her. She's a heroin addict."_

_Charles looked at Dylan in shock and Sam buried her face in her hands. "I can't possibly let the girls near her. Don't you agree darling?" Maria turned to Charles with wide eyes._

_Charles looked troubled and Maria flashed a triumphant look at Sam._

"_She's an ex-user yes, but she's been clean for a year and a half. She has a five month old daughter now. She's a talented violinist."_

"_I'm sorry Dylan, it's just the girls are so young, it's such an impressionable age. Of course you don't have children, you wouldn't understand." Maria said gently and Charles was still silent. Dylan understood that the decision had been made. He reflected this was probably a rerun of every other battle Sam had ever fought with her stepmother in her life. _

"_Of course Maria, they're your children." Sam said dully._

"_I would never suggest you uninvited Dylan's cousin of course. It's up to you who you want at your wedding. I'm sure Charles and I wouldn't miss it for the world." Maria smiled sweetly. _

_Dylan was seething by the time they left. Sam's father seemed more concentrated on his job than anything else and he seemed to leave everything else to his wife. Dylan shuddered to think how Sam had coped at age 12 with her mother not a year dead and forced into that harpies clutches. No wonder she had cut most ties with her father. They got into the jeep and were waved off perfectly politely. Dylan had to drive off and stop still furious, about a mile down the road._

"_She… How did she? My god, Sam. You had to live with that?" He turned to talk to her and she dissolved into tears and he unbuckled his seatbelt, got out and opened her door where she fell out into his arms._

"_You saw. Any weakness, any and she…" Sam said incoherently. "I didn't even get to see them." She sobbed._

_She pulled herself away from his chest and looked at him. "This is not how family is supposed to be. When we have children promise me it won't be like this. Promise me we'll make sure their happy and safe and loved?"_

"_Of course they will be." Dylan said instinctively knowing it was true even as his heart was breaking for his fiancée. He hated that Maria had been able to use his family against Sam. _

"_When?" He said suddenly, thinking of something she had said a few days earlier. _

"_What?" Sam looked up confused._

"_When you said the other day that circumstances were forcing us to plan a wedding in two months, you didn't mean…?"He trailed off_

_Sam's tears had subsided and she was regarding him, still confused. "Spit it out Keogh." She said bracingly._

"_Sam, you're not pregnant are you?" Sam tilted her head in amusement at his expression. _

"_Not as far as I know." She said finally. Dylan felt a bittersweet mix of relief and disappointment and Sam regarded him more carefully._

"_Dylan I really do want children with you. But I'm just at the beginning of my career and I have a five year commitment to the army ahead of me. I'm sorry. I couldn't do it."_

"_Couldn't do what?" He asked realising he had known her feelings even if she had never verbalised them before._

"_I couldn't leave you and our baby. It'll be hard enough missing you." He had never loved her more than in that moment. He wiped the tear tracks from her face gently. _

"_I love you Cinderella." _

_Sam giggled and rested her head on his shoulder. "I've changed my mind. Jess can be maid of honour. She and Millie will look adorable anyway."_

_Dylan smiled and then suddenly looked around himself. "Um...right. Where the hell are we Sam? I just drove away from that awful woman without caring what direction I was taking." _

_She laughed and got back in the jeep. "It's okay, I know the way."_

* * *

Holby, 2012

"The problem is that there just aren't the beds on the wards to take them, and we get stuck with them, not that we can't see the patients fast enough. They should be getting proper nursing attention, not just stuck on a trolley." Charlie complained, aware that he was preaching to the choir but allowing his frustration to boil over.

"You don't have to tell me." Nick replied, also allowing his frustration to be heard with colleagues that he trusted. He rose to signal the end of the meeting and Tess and Charlie collected their paperwork.

"How has Dr Keogh been the last couple of days? He nearly bit my head off on Tuesday." Nick enquired.

"He's back to normal I think." Tess said thoughtfully.

"I think he and Sam are back together. She called him when she got to Afghanistan and he was upset about missing her call." Charlie shared, certain his colleagues would not gossip but instead would look out for the solitary doctor.

Nick raised his eyebrows. "Well if that's true we have to keep an eye on him and try to support him. I'm sure it's not easy having a loved one in the line of fire." Nick seemed a little introspective himself.

"We all like Sam and Dylan. We'll do what we can." Tess said firmly.


	7. Chapter 7

The Damage we do – Chapter 7

Hello! Thanks to bigapplecat and ficmouse for their awesome feedback and comments and thanks to everyone who has alerted this story, it's nice to know people are reading.

_Dylan – past – italics_

Dylan and Sam – present- normal text.

Abbreviations

CCU – Coronary Care Unit.

EMD – Emergency Medical Dispatcher

Hope you like it and please review!

* * *

Holby, 2012

A uniformed policeman strode up to the front desk and politely waited for Noel to finish his phone call.

"Sorry." Noel said as he put down the phone.

"It's fine. I'm just looking for one of your doctors. Dr Samantha Nicholls, is she working today?" He enquired casually.

"Sorry mate she doesn't work here anymore." Noel said giving the officer a friendly smile.

"Great. Any idea how I can get hold of her?" He asked.

Noel nodded. "Her husband still works here, you could ask Dr Keogh. I can get him for you if you like?"

The policeman looked down at the notebook in his hand. "Dr Dylan Keogh? Yeah I need to speak to him anyway."

Noel put in a call to CDU and Dylan appeared looking slightly worried.

"Officer." He acknowledged. "What's this about?" He motioned to the office and the policeman followed him in.

* * *

"I understand you treated a Laura Williams a couple of weeks ago?" Dylan felt a rush of relief. He knew it was irrational but anybody official looking for him while Sam was away caused the knot of worry he pushed to the back of his mind most of the time to come springing back into the foreground. He knew the relief had shown on his face because the police officer was looking at him suspiciously.

"Yes. She was in a single-vehicle RTC with her husband and daughter. Why?"

"I'm Sergeant Steve Duffy, Traffic. She's made the allegation that her husband crashed the car deliberately. Since the crash involved such life changing injuries it's a very serious matter. I was hoping to speak to your wife too, but I understand she no longer works here? Do you know where I could get hold of her?" He asked and seemed taken aback when Dylan tried and failed to hide his amusement.

"Yes. Call the British Army. Her commanding officer is Lieutenant Colonel Bryant. She's in Afghanistan." He spelled it out and Sergeant Duffy heaved a weary sigh.

"Of course she is. Never flipping simple! I suppose a phone call is all I need really. She can fax over a statement. Do you know if the husband ever said anything about the cause of the crash?"

"Well I suspect he didn't admit to causing it because my wife seemed quite sympathetic to him. Mrs Collins was not concerned about him in the slightest. All she cared about was the little girl. I spoke to him briefly when I gave him the news about his wife. He was relieved she was going to be okay." Dylan felt a rush of pleasure at being able to call Sam his wife again without any qualification being necessary.

"Right. Was there any medical evidence she had fought him for control of the car?" Dylan shook his head "Any injuries she had sustained seemed to be consistent with an RTC."

"Off the record, you saw them both straight after the collision. What do you think?" Dylan considered for a moment.

"She seemed hostile but she didn't seem scared of him and she never once questioned his right to see the little girl. David seemed guilty and very concerned for his family, like any other driver in a serious accident." Dylan said.

"You think she's making mischief then?" Sergeant Duffy asked.

Dylan put his hands on his hips. "I think that's your job to determine sergeant. If you'll excuse me I need to get back to work"

* * *

Camp Bastion, Afghanistan, 2012

Sam stuttered to a stop and looked across the rows of buildings that made up Camp Bastion. She put her hands on her hips and tried to catch her breath invigorated by the long run. The extraordinary flatness of the massive area still surprised her and the hot sun beating down made the blue sky seem vast and almost endless. A Chinook rumbled overhead and Sam shielded her eyes to look. She took a long draw of her water and headed for the shower.

Back dressed, washed and decent she was informed over the radio that there was a phone call for her and she made her way to the control room. A communications specialist showed her to a phone and gave her the number. There was a name under it. Sergeant Steve Duffy, Holby City Police. She read the note with alarm and dialled the number rapidly, a number of terrifying scenarios running through her head.

"Sergeant Duffy" A voice with a Bristol accent answered briskly.

"Hello Sergeant Duffy, My name is Major Samantha Nicholls, I was asked to call?" She said formally, successfully keeping the panic out of her voice.

"Yes Dr Nicholls, Thank you for getting back to me so promptly. I wanted to talk to you about a patient you treated a couple of weeks ago. A David Williams?" Sam deflated and dropped her head into her hands in relief, knowing he couldn't see her reaction.

"David Williams? He was the driver of a RTC involving his wife and daughter." Sam said, trying to move on from her panic

"His wife has said he crashed the car on purpose while they were having a domestic. The little girl doesn't remember anything apart from them arguing. I was wondering if you saw anything or if he said anything to suggest that was true?"

"No." Sam thought back carefully. "He said it was his fault of course but I didn't get the feeling he meant it literally. He said they were having an argument and he let his attention wander for a second." Sam said.

"Did you think he was telling the truth?" the sergeant enquired.

"Well at the time I was about to amputate his leg so his defences were as down as they were ever going to be." Sam said matter-of-factly.

"Will you write an account of the events and fax it to me in Holby? It will be entered into evidence should the case proceed."

"Fine." Sam took down the number and hoped what she had said had made a difference. She didn't believe David was capable of hurting his family like that.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2008_

_Dylan regarded the knock at the door with annoyance. He put down the F2's portfolio he had been checking and got up, expecting to have to get rid of some lost takeaway boy or religious evangelists. He could just hear Sam shutting off the shower in the other room. They weren't expecting anyone and Sam had made chicken and butter bean with brown rice. Dylan knew rationally that this was good for his waistline and it tasted alright actually, but sometimes he really just fancied a Chinese to be honest. He wondered if it was a takeaway delivery if maybe he could just pretend it was his and pay. _

_He opened the door and met his cousin's bright blue eyes. He automatically started to examine her with his eyes._

"_Jess. And Millie too." He said surprised but happy none the less. "Come in." He picked up Millie's car seat where she was gurgling happily and led Jess into the flat. Jess was moving awkwardly, like she was dizzy and she lurched forward and practically collapsed on their couch. _

_Dylan realised something wasn't right and placed Millie down in alarm. He knelt in front of Jess who had her head in her hands. Dylan smoothed back her fair blonde hair out of her face and saw she was very pale and sweating and he realised this wasn't a social visit._

"_What's the matter?" He asked subtly taking her pulse. Instead of the tachy pulse he expected to find if she had relapsed, it was slow and irregular._

"_Sam!" He yelled and Millie started to cry._

_Dylan helped Jess lay horizontal on the couch. "My chest hurts." Jess managed to say and Dylan could feel her fear. Sam came quickly, having heard the voices as she was dressing. Her hair was still wet and loose around her shoulders._

"_What's going on? Jess?" Sam questioned._

_She's bradycardic and having chest pains." Sam frowned at Jess but went to Millie who Dylan registered was still crying in the background. He reached for his car keys but Sam was faster putting her hands over them before he could touch them. _

"_We can't drive her. We've both had wine. We'll have to wait for an ambulance" She said in an indignant tone, putting the keys in her pocket and then moving to rub the crying baby's back. She picked up the phone with one hand, the other still holding Millie and held it out to Dylan._

_Dylan was furious. "That's ridiculous, I'm fine to drive, give me the keys." He held out his hand. _

"_Dylan, you can't. You've had at least two glasses already and you haven't eaten." Sam didn't match his angry tone._

"_Sam, this isn't a debate." He said forcefully._

"_No. Call an ambulance. You're not driving." She shook her head_

"_Give me the keys." He said, losing it. "Now, Sam!" He yelled, angrier than he had ever been with her. He went towards her to get the keys and Millie wailed louder and Dylan realised he was frightening her. He stared at Sam's shocked expression for a moment and then reached out and grabbed the phone roughly, turning back towards Jess, who now had silent tears running down the side of her face._

_He dialled 999 and rapidly took the EMD at the other end of the phone through Jess's symptoms. He informed her he was a doctor and she let him hang up, informing him there was an ambulance on its way._

_Sam had managed to succeed in calming Millie down while he was speaking and she told him she would go down and meet the ambulance, walking out the door taking Millie with her._

_Dylan didn't have any time to think about her, it was taking all his self control to look after Jess._

"_Am I going to die, is this because of the drugs?" Jess choked out fearfully._

"_Of course you're not going to die, I promise. Whatever's causing this, we'll fix it." He was breaking every rule of dealing with a patient in the book and he didn't care._

"_If anything happens to me Dylan, you have to promise me you and Sam will look after Millie. Promise me." She whispered. _

"_That won't happen." He looked away, unable to see the fear on her face anymore._

"_Please Dylan. There's no one else." She sounded heartbroken and there was only one answer he could give._

"_I promise." He said, at that moment not really sure there was still a him and Sam to speak of and trying not to dwell on what he may just have committed them to._

_Sam came back with the paramedics and he gave them a run down and helped the paramedics strap Jess into the chair, seeing Jess looking a bit better on the oxygen. _

"_Is the baby hers?" The paramedic asked Sam. _

"_Yes. She's fine. I'll stay here with her and you go with Jess." Sam said to Dylan coldly and the paramedic seemed to take this as settled._

_Dylan avoided her eyes as he left, focusing completely on Jess. It looked as though she was the one who really needed him now._

* * *

Camp Bastion, Afghanistan, 2012

Sam stood back, exhausted. The atmosphere in the room was suffocating and everyone felt it badly. The soldier, Private James Baidya had received two gunshot wounds in the neck and leg. They had all done their best, his unit, another unit who crossed Taliban territory at speed to support them after receiving the call, the RAF helicopter crew flying into a live fire fight, Sam's people and the people waiting to receive him at Bastion but he had been a lost cause from the moment that bullet hit his neck. He looked around twenty two and Sam really hated her job at that moment. She gave her all and it wasn't enough, and now she had to go back and contact his commanding officer and tell him he'd lost someone. Then a whole new process would begin three thousand miles away and someone would receive the worst news of their life. His wife, probably, Sam thought she had seen a wedding ring on the young Ghurkha's finger.

She made the call and went for some air outside. She watched as soldier's gathered in small groups, sharing the news. Some of them looked towards her, and she knew her feelings were probably written all over her face.

She was off in an hour; she had been going to call Dylan later. Now she just had a report to write. She hoped Dylan wasn't too worried, he knew how things worked well enough by now.

* * *

Holby, 2012

Dylan would never usually admit to watching the clock at work, but he couldn't help it tonight. It was already the end of Sam's second week in Afghanistan and she had emailed him to say she could call later. He had told everyone he would be unavailable at eight and though they had looked at him curiously they hadn't asked. Tess had given him a knowing look and Dylan reflected Charlie had probably told her they were back together. It would be nice to get off these blasted night shifts and back to keeping his personal life private.

He slipped off to the locker room at 8 and got out his sandwich. He put the phone out on the table and tried not to look at it as he ate his sandwich and drunk his tea in silence

At twenty past he picked up his phone again and walked out to look at the TV in reception. He waited for the moving ribbon of text at the bottom to move along and sure enough there it was. UK soldier shot dead in Afghanistan, Family notified. He wouldn't be talking to Sam tonight. He hoped she wasn't taking it too badly. She tended to take every person she lost to heart.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2008_

_Dylan crept in at five o'clock the next morning. Jess was finally settled on a comfortable ward and she had tiredly urged him to go home as he was working in the morning. Dylan knew he couldn't go to sleep now, he would just feel worse but he was hoping to catch a quick shower and some food before he returned to the hospital. Sam had the day off and hopefully she could look after Millie, though only god knew what they were going to do with the baby tomorrow if Jess was still in hospital, which she would be. Dylan had a sinking suspicion the unseen damage the drugs had done was finally making itself known._

_How did one find childcare anyway? Dylan didn't have a clue, him and Sam had not even gotten around to getting a dog yet. He looked into the bedroom and was met by the amusing sight of Millie asleep on the bed in what looked like the top drawer of their bedroom chest of drawers; Sam curled up next to it. He collected his clothes and showered, trying to figure out how to fix things with Sam. He had used a tone with her that he had heard his father use with his mother when he was drinking and the memory of it made him curl up in shame. Dylan knew he hadn't been drunk, that wasn't his problem but he had just been so concerned for Jess and truth be told he probably would have been alright driving. It was actually very out of character for Sam; she was no stranger to a bit of bending of the rules to get things done, despite or perhaps because of her army training._

_He dressed in the living room and was heating up a bit of chicken and butter bean from last night when Sam appeared in the kitchen doorway._

"_How is she?" She came in and leaned against the counter, keeping a distance between them._

"_They've had to pace her. It looks like cardiomyopathy brought on by her drug use." He said feeling like he was suddenly falling apart and trying like hell to stop himself. She was so young, only twenty years old. If she died now, Millie wouldn't even know who she was._

_Sam was suddenly standing in front of him. "Promise me something Dylan." She said and Dylan was confused enough that he regained some of his control. He hoped she would not ask him to promise that he would never hit her, because he didn't think he could cope if she thought he was capable of that, despite his anger at her last night._

_He looked at her and he saw she was upset but there was chilliness there too, like everything hinged on his answer._

"_Promise me you will never get behind the wheel of a car when you've been drinking." He considered her fully. There was something here, something she wasn't telling him, but it didn't really matter. If it meant that much to her he would promise and he meant to keep it._

"_I promise." She searched his expression carefully, before pulling him into a hug._

* * *

Camp Bastion, Afghanistan, 2012

"Hello." Sam closed her eyes at hearing Dylan's voice.

"Hello Grumpy." She replied, knowing the smile could be heard in her voice.

"What's the weather like over there?" He said sarcastically and Sam grinned. This had always been their thing when she was first deployed. He would always ask her what the weather was like and she had to say bloody hot.

"Bloody hot. How is it back home?"

"Raining." Yeah that sounded about right. Typical British summer.

"I nearly had a heart attack the other day." She said teasingly.

"Why?"

"Some idiot left me a message I had to call Holby police urgently. I thought that dumb dog of ours had finally been the death of you."

"Dervla has been very well behaved, as always."

"Humph" Sam snorted as she thought of their daft rescue dog. Well behaved was not how she would describe her.

"I got a visit from the police too. They think your patient with the left below knee amputation caused the accident. You know the sergeant was most put out when I informed him you were in Afghan."

"Yes I was very sorry to inconvenience him." Sam said sarcastically. She sighed "I don't think David did it on purpose. I can understand why his wife was angry but accusing him of doing it deliberately is a bit much. They were arguing about a divorce but he told me he only asked for one to get a reaction from her." Sam stopped; aware they had wandered into dangerous territory.

"Is that why **you** asked for a divorce?" Dylan said his emotions unreadable.

"No. I thought we actually needed a divorce. I thought you could never forgive me and we would go on hurting each other." Sam answered honestly, listening for any sound on the other end of the line.

"I don't want to talk about this over the phone, not when we have so little time." He finally said. "How has your week been?"

"We lost someone. I'm sorry I couldn't call on Saturday. I would much rather have been talking to you than writing that report. I miss having you to come home to after a rough day." Sam was surprised to find tears in her eyes. She changed her position so anyone looking through the glass wouldn't see her eyes.

"Well it's been perfectly boring back here. Nothing interesting for at least a week. I've been sneakily planning your leave. Fancy getting away for a week, somewhere along the coast with plenty of walks for Smelly? I found a dog friendly hotel in Thurston; do you remember the beach there?" Dylan said and Sam laughed wetly.

"Of course I remember. I can't wait. I wish I had taken that earlier leave."

"No you don't." Dylan said firmly.

"No I don't. Thanks for reminding me. Oh, Dylan, I meant to tell my dad I was coming back to Afghan but I forgot, you wouldn't call him for me would you?" Dylan groaned.

"Thanks a bunch. You know it's a real struggle not to throttle him every time I see him, don't you." Dylan said theatrically

"Yes, that's why I asked you to call him, so you won't actually see him." Sam replied smartly. "Think the surfing will be good in Thurston?" She changed the subject teasingly.

"If you're surfing you are surfing alone. I have been in the sea at that time of year and it's not an experience I want to repeat." Sam grinned. She checked the time left on her call.

"I have to go now. I love you. And the dog." She said.

"I love you too. Talk too you soon." Dylan signed off and Sam put the phone down taking a deep breath.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2008_

_Dylan popped up to CCU around eleven and was surprised to find Sam already there sitting next to Jess. Millie was sat on her lap blowing bubbles at her mother and seemed happy to see her. Jess seemed brighter, but there were still lines of pain around her eyes._

"_Dylan." Jess said happily._

"_How are you feeling?" He said, picking up the obs chart at the end of her bed. Her heart rate had stabilised with the pacing, but apparently deteriorated when they had tried to remove it. That meant a small operation for Jess, to insert a permanent pacemaker._

"_Much better. The consultant said I have to have a small operation to put in a pacemaker, but then I should be okay for a while." Sam and Dylan locked eyes at this and Jess continued on. "Would you be okay to look after Millie while I'm in hospital? I have a friend who can watch her in the day but she has two other children. I know your both busy, what with work and the wedding?"_

"_Of course we'll look after her." Sam said quickly. _

"_Which tests have they done for you Jessica?" Dylan said trying to gauge just how bad the damage to Jess's heart was._

"_They did this thing where they could see my heart. It was really odd." She looked at Millie. "They said I have ten to fifteen years, depending on how well I look after myself. After that my only hope is a transplant. She talked quietly and Sam reached over and held her hand. "But the good news is I asked and I'll be fine for your wedding. When I get out I need to make a will, get you both named as her guardians. I couldn't let her go to Mummy, not that she would take her."_

_Dylan wandered to Sam's side and picked up Millie out of her arms. "We'll look after her if it ever comes to that. But you're her mother and you're still here, even if you are going to acquire some new hardware."_

"_Hey, that consultant was barking at those student doctors, it was scary. You didn't do that to Sam did you Dylan?" Jess teased, changing the subject._

_Sam stood up next to Dylan. "He did much worse than bark." She said smiling._

* * *

Holby, 2012

Dylan never did this. Never. But Sam obviously felt strongly about this family and he hoped to give her good news next time she called so he stood outside Laura Williams's hospital ward psyching himself up. All he had to do was listen.

He took a squirt of hand sanitizer as he went through the double doors and walked up to the ward desk, introduced himself and was informed which bay Mrs Williams was occupying.

He recognised her straight away. She had a cage around her hand and she was lying curled up on her side. She looked miserable, despite the numerous cards and flowers around her bed.

"Laura? I'm Dylan, one of the doctors that treated you in the emergency department. I just wanted to see how you were." He said trying not to be too formal.

"I remember you. I'm sorry I didn't say thank you but I was a bit out of it at the time." She said politely.

"Of course, that isn't necessary. How are you faring?" He said, sitting down in the empty chair at the side of her bed.

She shook her head "I'm useless at the moment. I'm not that badly hurt and my little girl was very badly injured but I'm stuck here when I should be with her. I mean my mum is with her, she's not on her own but…the surgeon said I still need more surgery on my hand.|"

"I'm sorry that must be very hard." Dylan said feeling he was already out of his depth. "It's difficult being separated from the person you love when she needs you" He winced at his awkwardness but decided to keep going.

"How is your husband doing? The doctor who treated him was wondering." He tried.

"Why doesn't he go and see him like you're doing?" Laura said, suddenly uncooperative.

"She's an army doctor and she had to go back to Afghanistan" Dylan said, hoping to distract the woman from her obvious hostility.

"Oh." She seemed taken aback by this. "Well I don't really know. Okay I think. I'm not really speaking to him. He asked me for a divorce before the crash. Twelve years of marriage and he just wants to throw it all away for no reason at all. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for him and his stupid divorce. Poor Sam. She may never recover you know? She has some feeling back now, but she'll have to learn how to walk all over again"

"It's a good sign that she's regaining the feeling. She's been very lucky." Dylan reassured. "I spoke to your husband after the crash. He seemed very worried about you." He started clumsily and she jumped in.

"What kind of man does that? Just wakes up one day and decides he wants to leave his wife and child." She played with the bedcover. "I don't understand."

"I see a lot of worried people in the E.D. He didn't look to me like a man walking away. Perhaps he just wanted to get your attention." She fell silent and Dylan rose.

"It was good to see you're alright." He said.

"Yes. Thank you doctor." She looked thoughtful and Dylan got out of there as fast as he could. The things he did for that damn wife of his. She better be grateful, talking to this woman and the wicked stepmother all in one week would try the patience of a saint.


	8. Chapter 8

The Damage we do – Chapter 8

Just realised I messed up the timeline a bit. This should be taking place in early 2009 if Sam graduated in 2008 and is on her third F1 placement. Sorry 'bout that. Will have to just go with it now. Squint and pretend I had being saying 2009 all along! Sorry about the sporadic updates, its still exam time and this next one is hell to revise for because it all depends on the medical conditions your patient on the day suffers from. We are all praying for a nice diabetic patient!

I wasn't sure about the last chapter, I couldn't feel very happy with it but this one definitely needs to be posted so I can move the story forward and not chicken out! please let me know what you think. Oh and apologies to Stevenage.

Once again I have no army and emergency medical knowledge

also past - italics

present -normal text.

Warnings for troubling/triggering issues.

* * *

Lashkar Gah, Afghanistan, 2012

At the end of her third week Sam sat on a cushion on the floor, just like everyone else at this meeting in a large room in a house in the closest city to Camp Bastion. She had taken off her helmet and instead was wearing her beret. Lieutenant Colonel Henty was leading this sit down with the tribal elders; Sam was only there to talk about the provision of maternity care for the afghan mothers in the area Bastions medical facility covered. She had already given her spiel, which was only listened to because she was talking about a women's issue and the elders didn't want to offend her commanding officer. Sam found meetings like this intensely frustrating. She had never once considered she was in any way less than a man and to see the attitudes of people who clearly believed that made her want to scream.

She tuned out the talk, desperately trying not to say anything out of turn and noticed a young man who was watching her from across the room. He seemed somewhat familiar and Sam absently tried to place him in her memory. He was staring at her with a weird expression. Sam would most closely categorise it as the look a cat gave a canary. Well this little idiot would have a shock if he tried to place her in that role. It suddenly clicked for her where she had seen him before. He was the son of a tribal elder of a region a little outside Lashkar Gah. She had seen him on her second tour when her MERT team had responded to a bombing at a girl's school. He had given her the creeps then and she had kept an eye on where he was at all times.

She had her suspicions about the bombing, which she had passed on to her commanding officer. The young man, Adeeb hadn't helped at all. He had just watched them trying to help the dying and injured girls and women and that had burned Sam's vague suspicions into her mind. There had been no action from above and Sam wasn't surprised at that, for a son of a tribal elder, more than one officer's vague suspicion was needed. To arrest him could destabilise his entire region. Sam met his eyes and he smirked.

* * *

Camp Bastion, Afghanistan, 2012

The next day Sam was doing her paperwork outside taking advantage of the cool early morning sun. She had positioned herself so she could watch a rousing impromptu marine versus army football game. A crowd had gathered to watch and Sam had spotted Carly on the other side of the 'pitch' yelling with gusto. If Sam wasn't on duty she would have been out there herself, they were clearly in need of someone with speed on the left wing and since it was a casual game people were joining and leaving the game with good humour.

A crackle came from her radio and Sam reached over to answer it, gathering her stuff together at the same time. She felt the familiar rush of adrenaline fill her. It looked like her break was over.

* * *

Holby, 2012

Nick was fed up of this conversation already but he persevered, determined to make the brash young doctor in front of him fall into line. It was early afternoon and he had 1001 other things he should be doing but instead he was once again trying to teach sensitivity to Lenny which was about as easy as teaching a dog to do the Hula.

"Look, whatever she wanted to be referred to as Lenny, it doesn't mean it's a free for all for you to question how exactly she or he ….."

Nick trailed off watching the progress of a man in an army uniform wearing a beret walk quickly into the E.D. and stop at the front desk. Nick couldn't see his face but he noted the look on Noel's face as the man spoke and he watched as Noel reached for the phone, hand shaking.

"No." Nick whispered to himself and Lenny looked at him confused and swung round to look before inhaling sharply. Nick tossed the patient file back at Lenny before crossing the corridor quickly to the reception desk.

"Are you here for Dr Keogh?" He asked, desperately hoping for a negative. Noel looked relieved to see him and put the phone down, letting him take over.

"Yes." The soldier was around thirty and looked unbelievably grim to Nick. Nick's heart sank and he prayed inside that this wasn't what he thought it was as he motioned for the man to follow him.

"He's one of my doctors. You can talk to him in my office." He spotted Charlie passing and grabbed his arm, "Charlie, can you bring Dylan to my office please? I think he's in CDU."

Charlie took in the situation with his eyes and nodded quickly. He walked off but didn't make it to the stairs before they spotted Dylan walking from resus towards the staffroom, doing something on his phone in an exasperated manner.

Dylan finished what he was doing and looked up, straight at Nick and the soldier. He froze, just stopped dead. All colour disappeared from his face, like a switch being flicked. He stared at the soldier like he was a ghost.

The soldier glanced at Nick and seemed to realise that this was the man he had come to talk to.

"Dr Keogh?" He asked quietly, moving towards him until he stood in front of him. Nick and Charlie were unfrozen by this motion and followed him, surrounding Dylan and shielding him from the rest of the E.D, which seemed to have fallen silent.

Dylan didn't move, didn't seem to breathe. His eyes were fixed on the soldiers, burning into him with an intensity Nick had never seen from him before.

"She's dead." He finally said, so quietly Nick strained to hear it.

The soldier shook his head quickly, "No, Dr Keogh! She isn't dead. Major Nicholls was in an explosion in Helmand at 06.30 this morning. She's being brought back to the UK and she should be getting to Birmingham in about 3 hours." He looked away from Dylan's unswerving eye contact. "She's in critical condition but she's got this far."

At this Dylan seemed to sway and reach out for the wall. Charlie was closest and grabbed his arm, pulling him into the adjacent staffroom, knowing Dylan would not appreciate being on public view. He sat down hard on the sofa and Nick and the soldier followed.

"What happened?"

* * *

_London, 2009_

_Sam was exceedingly drunk and not sorry about it at all. She had been a bit worried when one of her army colleagues had requested her maid of honour's phone number to talk about the hen night but together Jess and Carly seemed to have done an amazing job. It was just as well as they were a rather large party and if anything had gone wrong it would have been a nightmare. True to stereotypes, both the medics and army girls could party and this was turning out to be a great night. Sam was just beginning to relax that they hadn't ordered a stripper._

_She looked around the club at her best friends wearing stupid wigs, dancing and enjoying themselves. The lights and the alcohol she had drunk were making the atmosphere seem slightly unreal and she smiled to herself, hardly believing that this was her hen night. She still felt so young, and marriage felt like such a grown up thing, but Dylan made her feel like it was natural, like it was nothing to say she would spend the rest of her life with him because she couldn't imagine her life without him. She was so lucky, she had a job she enjoyed, great friends and an amazing fiancé soon to be husband._

_Her friend Holly took her hand and they mimed along to the song, doing the actions like school children before collapsing on each other in laughter. _

_She saw Jess and beckoned her over and Jess came, holding Carly's hand shyly. Sam caught on to what that meant at once and hugged both of them excitedly. Jess was the only sober member of the party and Sam had been worried that she would be bored, but obviously she had found someone to amuse her. She was glad the younger girl was living her life and not letting what might happen affect her future. _

_Jess pulled out the little disposable camera that each of her friends had been supplied with and snapped a photo of Carly, Holly and Sam. Sam wrestled the camera back and got one of Carly and Jess together. A song that Sam loved came on and she abandoned the camera back to Jess and got them all together to dance. _

_A little later Jess accompanied her to the toilets. Sam walked carefully conscious there were too many steps in this club for her luck to hold for long in this condition and that she had no intention of turning up to her wedding with a black eye._

_The music was dulled in the toilets but Sam was as drunk as ever. She reapplied her minimal makeup as she waited for Jess._

"_I'm glad it's you." Jess came to stand at the sink next to year and Sam turned to her, confused. "He's all I've got and he's a bit awkward sometimes but he's a sweetheart, you know."_

_Sam grinned at that. She thought he was a sweetheart too. "I really love him Jess" She said from her blurry happy state of mind._

"_I know you do" Jess said smiling at the bride to be. _

* * *

House of Commons, London, 2012

"Keep in tight on Cameron, he's starting to sweat." The producer said, hand on the camera technician's shoulder. He watched a ripple move through the chamber, a note being passed along the crowded benches. "Keep an eye on where that note is going too." He ordered the other tech. It stopped at the defence secretary James Atherton who opened it calmly. The producer watched intrigued as his expression became suddenly grave.

"It's something big" The producer said happily, but the man's expression did not flick to the prime minister's and he made no move to pass the note on. He excused himself and left the chamber.

"Get some camera's on Atherton" He said, and the team who was waiting for PMQ's to finish outside the chamber unobtrusively pointed the camera at Atherton, who was now on the phone. They pretended to be doing a sound check. Atherton looked rattled, which was very unusual for him. He signalled a steward and sent in another note and waited, for once ignoring the camera crew and reporter set up at the side of the wide exit hall. Another MP exited into the hall, one of the defence parliamentary under-secretaries. The producer silently wracked his brain for his name. "Charles Nicholls." The political reporter whispered into his microphone and the producer grinned to himself. The producer motioned for his deputy to take over directing the coverage of PMQ's. He wanted to follow this. "Clever clogs. Try and get some sound, would you?" He directed to the sound operator and they were suddenly eavesdropping on the two defence minister's conversation.

"There's some news from Afghanistan." Atherton was saying gravely.

"What kind of news?" Nicholls didn't bat an eyelid and the producer remembered he was a former army officer.

"Your daughter Samantha is being med-evaced back to the UK." Atherton said gently and the entire news team froze. The producer wondered whether to give the order to stop filming, but decided to wait.

"What happened?" Nicholls was saying, his tone still level but his face rapidly greying.

"Major Nicholls MERT team was hit by a second wave suicide bombing. Two soldiers have already died." Atherton actually looked distressed at this.

"What about Sammy?" Nicholls asked anxiously.

"She's being flown to Queen Elizabeth Birmingham. She's in critical condition."

"Does Dylan know yet? Dylan Keogh, her husband?" Nicholls visibly pulled himself together.

Atherton nodded. "The notification officer is with him now."

"I have to go." Nicholls said and Atherton nodded. "I hope she's okay Charlie." Nicholls rushed off and Atherton went straight back into the chamber, his expression perfectly blank and giving no sign of the news he had just needed to deliver.

The producer took a deep breath and returned to directing the PMQ's, noticing the camera tech had suspiciously shiny eyes but was getting on with her job regardless. That footage was going to be a headache, he could tell. He motioned to a runner "Find me all you can on Charles Nicholls, Major Samantha Nicholls and Dylan Keogh."

* * *

Back at the office the producer and the political reporter went straight to their Boss's office. "We have some footage, but there are some issues with it."

"God, you haven't been filming in the ladies loo's again have you?" Their boss said and the producer smelt a rant coming on. "What would you say if we said we have proof that a serving MP's child has been wounded in Afghanistan?" He started and their boss sat back and raised his eyebrows.

"That is news. Usually the little scroats don't let their precious little darling's anywhere near real work. I'm mean even Prince Harry has done his bit, even though he may as well had a big British bull's-eye printed on his head. Alright which one?"

"Charles Nicholls, parliamentary under-secretary, defence. His daughter, Major Samantha Nicholls was the leader of a MERT team out of camp Bastion. She was wounded in a second wave suicide bombing earlier today." The reporter said quickly.

Their boss pursed his lips. "How did you find out? It wasn't the gents was it?"

The reporter and producer exchanged a long-suffering look and the producer opened his laptop and showed his boss the raw footage.

"Does anyone else have this?" he asked trying to decide on how much time he had to make a decision.

"I don't think so, the Sky guys looked as bored as usual when we left, and ITV were still sorting out their makeup when we filmed it."

The runner knocked on the door. "Come in." said the producer and his boss looked at him in an annoyed way. "I asked Jenny to look into some names. Give me the headlines Jen."

"Charles Nicholls, former Lieutenant Colonel in the Queen's Dragoon Guards, now MP for Stevenage and one of the parliamentary under-secretaries of defence, father of Samantha Nicholls to his first wife. She is a 27 year old army emergency doctor and recently faced a fitness to practice hearing at the GMC about an incident that occurred when she was working in a civilian emergency department. She's married to Dr Dylan Keogh, also an emergency doctor and brother to Graham Keogh the attorney general." She handed him a picture of a pretty young blonde on her wedding day and the smiling man by her side did indeed bear a resemblance to the attorney general.

"This officer is connected then. Its news and it's in the public interest. Get on to Atherton, tell him we have the footage and we are considering showing some or all of it, and see what he says. We aren't showing it without permission from Nicholls, MP or not. That bit about Sammy brought a tear to even my cynical eye." The boss finished sarcastically and his team scrambled to get it done.

* * *

The reporter headed over to Whitehall.

"Max. How nice to see you" Atherton said, conveniently forgetting Max had just almost blackmailed himself into a meeting.

"Thank you for seeing me minister" Max said, doing the same.

"What can I do for you, I'm afraid I can only give you five minutes, I'm rather busy."

"We know about Major Samantha Nicholls." Max said getting straight to the point.

Atherton looked annoyed. "How? Soldier's names are privileged information."

"We have footage of you telling Charles Nicholls." Max said honestly.

"You bastards are shameless." Atherton said angrily.

Max tilted his head in agreement, "You're the one who told him in public."

"Of course I bloody did. I preferred him to hear it from me rather than the first time he looked at his blackberry" Atherton exploded. "Let me see it then." He watched in silence, first seeing his own reaction to the note and then his conversation with Nicholls.

"You're going to release her name?" He queried, clearly thinking fast.

"She's the daughter of a serving MP and the sister in law of the attorney general. She's news." Max said honestly.

"Her career will be over, you know that?" Atherton said. "If she goes back half the Taliban will have her photo on their dartboards."

"It looks to me like her career is the least of her problems." Max said flippantly.

"I'll talk to Nicholls about releasing the footage. I'll give you a statement too. Bloody hell!" He shook his head.

"Just be thankful we're the BBC. If we were anyone else this would have been released hours ago." Max said rising to leave.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

"_At this rate our guests will be skiing to the wedding." Dylan prophesised gloomily, looking out of the window at the unseasonable gently falling snow._

"_Oh shut up, it doesn't look that bad. It'll just be a bit of a dusting. It will make the place look a bit prettier tomorrow, that's all." Sam said optimistically clattering round the flat assembling things she needed to take with her._

"_Yes well just remember we haven't budgeted for a one horse open sleigh."_

"_Ha Ha!" she said sarcastically "Alright I think that's everything." Sam turned to him and the feeling of normality that had been between them so far fell away. "The next time I see you I'll be walking down the aisle towards you"_

_Dylan's heart felt like it was skipping a beat at the image. He would have her forever and no one could take her away from him. She stepped towards him and stood in front of him, studying his face as he studied hers._

"_Any doubts?" She asked in a teasing tone. He knew she wasn't really worried. "Not until I met your friend Holly. She really has the most magnificent…"Sam smacked him on the shoulder and allowed him to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her close. She put her own arms around his neck and kissed him._

"_One day." She whispered. _

_"I'll be there." Dylan said._

_ "I know you will Grumpy. You know what an excellent shot I am." She gave him one last kiss and picked up her bag and left._

_The snow was still falling as he watched her get into her friends car, laughing. She looked back at him and smiled and he smiled back. _

* * *

Midlands, 2012

Dylan sat in the passenger seat of his jeep feeling numb. The notification officer had volunteered to drive him up to Birmingham and Dylan had declined at first but then realised he was not a good navigator when he was upset and Birmingham was a long journey during which there was large scope to get extremely lost.

His phone rang and he answered it without thinking, not even checking the number.

"Keogh."

"Dylan, it's Charles." Dylan's mind blanked for a minute before he remembered Sam's father, who he hadn't seen in person for years. He should probably have let Sam's father know, but he didn't have anything to tell him yet and the thought of repeating what the notification officer had told him to someone else was impossible.

"I've heard about Sammy. I'm driving up from London. Are you there yet?"

"No. I'm…where am I?" He asked the soldier, who had introduced himself as Lieutenant Michael Walters-Davies.

"On the M5. We've just passed Worcester."

"Good. I'll be there as soon as I can." Sam's father hung up and Dylan stared at the phone. Someone else knew. It was really happening.

* * *

His phone rang again an hour later. He nearly didn't answer it as he was sure they were near the hospital. It was still an unknown number and once again he answered it.

"Keogh."

"Hello Dylan."

Dylan stared out the window at the rain hitting the bonnet. "Gray." He acknowledged.

"I've just been asked by the BBC to comment on a story that your wife was seriously injured in Afghanistan." Gray sounded annoyed.

"The BBC?" Dylan questioned, unable to understand why the BBC would know about Sam or care for a comment from his brother.

"Dylan, priorities!" His brother said in his usual superior tone. "Has your wife been injured?"

"Yes." Dylan choked out, realising this was the first of many horrific conversations to come.

"How is she?" Even Gray seemed to soften his tone and Dylan realised that it was the first time Dylan had spoken to Gray without an edge to his voice since they were teenagers.

"I don't know exactly. She was in an explosion and she's in a critical condition." He said trying to get through each word one step at a time.

"Do you want me to come?" Gray asked and Dylan was shocked.

"Um…No. Thank you. Sam's father is driving up." He covered his shock.

"Dylan, you know Sam's father is a Member of Parliament, don't you? The BBC somehow found out she was injured and they obviously know about her connection to me. This will be all over the news in a couple of hours." Dylan covered his face with his hand, massaging his forehead where he could feel a headache coming on.

"Whatever. That's your world. Sam is all I care about now, you deal with them." He said bullishly. He could hear Gray taking a calming breath at the other end of the line.

"Fine. I'll call again later." He hung up and Dylan rested his head on the cool passenger window. They had slowed down considerably and were making their way through a large complex which was familiar to Dylan as generic hospital architecture. They could hear sirens in the distance. "That might be her now." Lieutenant Walters-Davies said and Dylan tried to track the sound to its source. He saw a mix of military, police and NHS vehicles and followed the convoy's progress with his eyes as if he would be able to catch a glimpse of her.

"I'll drop you off and park the car if you'd like. It's just through those doors there." Dylan nodded and thanked him before getting out of the jeep and staring up at the hospital building. He could still see the lights from the convoy at the side of the building. It still felt so unreal being on this side of a process he was part of almost everyday. He steeled himself and walked through the sliding doors.

He was ushered into a relatives room and made a coffee after he explained who he was and why he was there. They had been expecting him and Dylan suspected the soldier who had driven him had called ahead too. He paced the room restlessly, not able to sit down or concentrate on anything, just mindlessly waiting.

A doctor in an army uniform and a nurse who seemed to be NHS entered the room. "You are Major Nicholls husband?" The doctor enquired.

"Yes. Dylan Keogh." He said, assessing the team and deciding they didn't look grave enough for Sam to be dead.

"Dylan, Sam has sustained significant head injuries in the explosion earlier today. She has a bleed in her brain and she may need surgery in the next few hours. She also has some superficial lacerations and we are keeping a close eye on some possible internal bleeding." Dylan sat down abruptly.

"Has she woken up since? What's her GCS?" the doctor and the nurse exchanged a look.

"Are you a doctor?" He asked and Dylan nodded.

"She hasn't been consistently conscious since she was injured and her intracranial pressure is high so we are keeping her sedated." Dylan had taken in all he was going to. He put the coffee down, his hand shaking. "Can I see her?"

"Yes. I'll take you to her. We had to ventilate her and I'm afraid she has lots of tubes and wires, though I'm sure you know what they all do. They can look unnerving at first glance." The nurse led him to a room where there were two beds. There was an older woman dozing in a chair next to a young man's bedside and the other patient was Sam.

He didn't recognise her at first. The nurse led him over to the chair next to her bed and he stood looking at her, trying to urge his medic's brain to stop analysing her injuries. Her face was black and blue down one side and her eyes were closed. Her chest was moving up and down with the artificial rhythm of the vent. The nurse had been right, every tube or line that could conceivably be in a human being was in Sam. She had a large dressing on her left arm and her hair was lose and messy. He ran his fingers through her hair and he could feel the afghan dust still in her hair. He smoothed it to one side and ran his thumb over her unbruised temple. She looked so young and so peaceful. It was like she was already gone.

Dylan refused to contemplate what a haemorrhage in her brain could mean for her. He sat heavily in the chair next to her, picking up her hand and holding on tight.


	9. Chapter 9

The Damage we do – Chapter 9

I'll come clean and admit I've progressed to inventing roads as well as villages! Only Cottered is real and I don't think it's near anywhere called Ashton. A big thank you to Ficmouse, Callie Rawston and Casualty1 for reviewing, especially for the ideas they are shaking loose! Exam's are finished now, and if I failed the resits aren't for ages, so yippee!

As always,

present – normal text

italics – past

This once again contains potential troubling/triggering issues.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

Holby, 2012

Zoe stopped dead as she saw the familiar red banner of Breaking News on the reception television. This must be it. They wouldn't release Sam's name of course, they only did that for soldiers who had already passed away. Nick had gathered them together and told them about Sam. Their friend had been in an explosion and was being flown back home in critical condition. He had also said she had not been the only one involved in the incident and that two other soldiers had already died but he hadn't given anymore details and Zoe hadn't wanted to press him.

It was awful to keep passing and glancing up at the news channel expecting them to report it. Sam had not been gone a month and the E.D. staff were desperately trying to deliver their normal level of care, despite being a doctor down and all jumping whenever the phone rang. It should be on the TV because how could it not be? In Holby City E.D. today their entire world felt wrong and it felt like it being on the news would acknowledge that, acknowledge that it was real and one of their friends was in critical condition and the other was suffering.

The newsreader was sombre as Noel raised the volume to be heard over the waiting area noise. "Two British soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan. The soldiers were from 1st Battalion the Rifles and 254 Medical regiment and their families have been notified. Two other soldiers were also hurt in the explosion in Helmand province earlier today. The Ministry of Defence has named one of the injured soldiers as Major Samantha Nicholls, daughter of defence minister Charles Nicholls. Major Nicholls has been flown back to the UK and is said to be in a critical but stable condition. BBC reporters earlier captured the moment when defence secretary James Atherton told Mr Nicholls of his daughter's injury. The BBC's political correspondent Max Smith has the story."

"Yes Simon extraordinary scenes at Westminster today as the Afghan conflict struck a lot closer to home than usual."

Zoe stared at the screen amazed at seeing her young colleagues name and picture up there. The BBC used the official ministry of defence photo of Sam in her uniform briefly but then showed a wedding photo of her standing with a tall older man. Sam looked radiantly happy and Zoe was surprised to find her eyes filling with tears watching the broadcast. She covered her mouth with her hand. She felt Nick come to stand beside her, Noel following close behind. They watched the broadcast transfixed. The patients in the waiting area were watching them, trying to figure out what was going on.

"I've already had a phone call asking for a statement. Thank god they're at Westminster or they'd be camped out here already. Did you know Sam's father was a member of parliament?" Nick said.

Zoe shook her head blinking back tears rapidly, getting herself back under control. "They never mentioned it. Dylan would hate this." She nodded towards the screen. "Have you heard anything else?"

Nick shook his head. "I don't want to bother Dylan. I've asked her doctor to keep us updated, if Dylan agrees."

"This is a nightmare Nick. She shouldn't have even been out there."

"I know." He turned around to Noel. "I think we've had enough news for one day, don't you?"

Noel nodded and went back behind the desk for the remote to turn off the TV.

Nick squeezed Zoe's arm as he left and she stared at the blank TV for a moment before getting back to work.

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

Dylan was used to dead bodies. He had seen patients die countless times and it hadn't always been a tragic occurrence. He had seen older patients at the end of their lives who had welcomed death as the end of their trials, patients who had seen all their friends and relatives go before them and lingered on alone, people in such excruciating pain that death was a release.

He remembered the first day in the dissecting room as a medical student. All the first years had assembled outside, laughing and joking nervously. Dylan had wondered how he would cope with it, how his body and mind would react. Their anatomy lecturer had explained before hand that there were usually a couple of people who didn't react well, it wasn't a sign of weakness and they would get over it with time.

Another class was in there before them and Dylan could see into the large well lit room through the strip window in the door. He was shocked to see an actual person lying on a table, a medical student standing over him, his hands disappearing inside him. Dylan's stomach had lurched and he had looked away, terrified that he couldn't go in and that he wouldn't be able to take it.

He had thought of them as dead bodies, but the figure on the table was a person, had been an actual living breathing person like him who had friends and family and had eaten the same things as him and breathed the same air. Dylan had almost left. He had met the eyes of another student he didn't know very well. Dylan hadn't gravitated towards him as he was a bit outgoing and loud for his tastes. Bloody Hell the other student had muttered sounding like Dylan had felt and he hadn't felt so alone anymore. Both Jack and he had stuck it out and had found the odd dark humour that came with the work they had been doing strangely comforting. They had been friends from then on.

The thought that his beautiful Sam could become one of those bodies now was leaving him sick inside. She was so full of life and vigour that it was unbelievable that she could leave him. But Dylan sneaked a look at her monitor of intracranial pressure and registered that every hour the reading didn't decrease, that outcome was becoming more likely.

"Come on darling. Come on." He whispered to her, hoping somewhere in there she was listening.

* * *

Holby, 2012

Jeff and Dixie brought in their patient, a drunken teenager and his equally intoxicated friend and transferred him to the tender mercies of Tess and Lenny.

"You'll need to pump his stomach by the smell of him. We found him quite near his house but there was no answer there so you'll have to try to get his parents mobile number out of him when he's sobered up a bit. Where's Dylan, I thought he was on minors, I was looking forward to gifting him with this honour?" Jeff said after he'd finished handover. Dixie was trying valiantly to get the drunken friend to stay seated where she put him.

Dixie and Jeff exchanged looks of amusement at the thought of the unsympathetic treatment the teenager would have received from the straight talking doctor. They missed the look Tess and Lenny exchanged.

"He had to leave. Can I have a word before you go?" Tess said calmly and Jeff and Dixie followed her out to the corridor.

"There's been some bad news from Afghanistan." Tess said, hating that she had to be the one to tell the paramedics, who had been close to the young army doctor from the beginning.

"Is she okay?" Dixie said catching on straightaway.

Jeff looked confused for a split second. "Something's happened to Sam?"

Tess nodded. "She was in an explosion and she's been flown back to the UK. Dylan's gone to be with her. She's in critical condition."

"Critical condition?" Jeff and Dixie exchanged dismayed looks. "When was this? Has Dylan seen her yet?" Jeff asked.

"I don't know. Mr Jordan has been in contact with the hospital but as far as I know she's still in critical condition. He hasn't spoken to Dylan. Dylan was very upset."

"Of course he was, she's his wife." Jeff said absently.

"There's something else I'm afraid. Sam and Dylan are on the news."

"Why? Wait, why **Dylan**?" Jeff said quickly.

"Sam's father is an MP and Dylan's brother is in the cabinet somehow. We've already had reporters sniffing round."

"Well they'll hear nothing from us." Dixie said determinedly in a way which boded ill for the first person to ask.

They walked out through the reception area, where the television was off for the first time they could remember.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Dylan stood at the front of the church nervously adjusting his tie. Jack reached over and smacked his hand away. _

"_Nervous?" He teased._

"_No." Dylan said irritated. "She's late."_

"_Er, have you met Sam? She's always late. It's just today she's allowed to be. I wouldn't blame you if you were nervous. She's way out of your league mate. Luckily you're marrying her before she realises it!" Jack teased and yelped at the swift elbow in the ribs he received for his trouble._

"_Why does everyone always say that? She's an appalling backseat driver, she makes me eat rabbit food, she makes me try extreme sports and she likes to sleep with the light on. She drives me crazy."_

"_So why you marrying her then, genius?" Jack said unperturbed by Dylan's rant._

"_She's amazing." Dylan said hearing the music start and realising Sam had arrived._

"_Glad we cleared that up then." Jack said rolling his eyes but Dylan was no longer listening._

_He watched her walk down the aisle towards him, on her father's arm. Her father was smiling broadly and Sam looked beautiful. Her hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders and her dress was a strapless long white gown which emphasised her slim body but was elegantly simple. She met his eyes with a nervous smile and Dylan fell in love all over again. They were both unused to being the centre of attention like this but it didn't matter. _

_Dylan watched her get nearer and nearer him until finally at last her father placed her hand in his. He couldn't resist leaning in. "You look beautiful."_

"_Not so bad yourself grumpy" She whispered back._

_Jess, who had been walking behind her, gave Millie to Sam's friend Holly and stepped forward to take Sam's bouquet. She and Millie matched perfectly in dresses of light grey which was made their fair hair and blue eyes stand out. Dylan met her eyes and she smiled self consciously. Dylan should have been upset that she was the only family member that was present for him, but he was strangely uncaring. Even at the thought of his family, the deep anger that he usually felt was inaccessible. That was Sam's doing. She had fixed him, when he thought he could never be fixed, could never trust anyone else that deeply again._

_He felt he was floating on air all through his vows._

"_Do you have the ring?" The vicar asked. Dylan turned to Jack, who commenced a comedy pat down of all the pockets he possessed until he finally hit on the right one, the one Dylan had seen him put it in earlier. Dylan rolled his eyes and held out his hand and he felt Sam laugh next to him._

_Dylan slipped the simple gold band onto Sam's finger next to her engagement ring and he could feel her pulse racing wildly._

_He kissed her and he decided this was the happiest day of his life and he doubted then anything could ever best it._

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

Dylan moved back helplessly as Sam was unplugged and calmly whisked away to the MRI scanner by a determined posse of nurses, an odd mix of army, navy and NHS uniforms. He was trying as hard as he could to shut off the part of him with medical training as it recited statistics and outcomes and complications and other things that made him want to pull his hair out and scream.

He knew that the shunt they inserted at Bastion hadn't brought the intracranial pressure down as they had hoped and that they were most likely considering a period of hyperventilation. He just hoped that the MRI showed an improvement, especially with the subdural haemorrhage and the intracranial pressure. Her consultant, who had been a different doctor to the one he had first spoken to had assured him three hours ago that internal bleeding had now been ruled out. While this was good news, Dylan would have paid every penny he had that the subdural bleed could have been ruled out instead.

A smartly dressed man appeared, silhouetted in the double doorway to the room. Dylan recognised him immediately as his father-in-law.

"Dylan." Charles rushed over. "How is she?"

Dylan sat back down; mind only partly able to take Charles in. "She's very ill." He said, unable to keep his tone level.

"Is she going to die?" Charles said, seeming to expect Dylan's medical opinion which Dylan was incapable of giving at the moment. Dylan was silent, trying to control his rapidly increasing irritation at the very sight of Sam's aloof father. "Should I get the girls up here to say goodbye?"

Dylan turned to look at him, irritation turning to anger and breaching his fragile self control. "Now, you're going to let them see her? You let that witch of a wife keep her away from them like she was a bad influence all this time and now it's okay? Dylan narrowed his eyes at him. "Go away!"

Charles looked at him, appalled." I'm not going anywhere, Sammy is my daughter. And don't you dare talk about my wife like that" He said coldly.

Dylan was not a violent man but he felt the urge to hurt Charles, to break some part of him beyond repair. He stood up and stepped closer to the taller man, right into his personal space.

"This is your fault. You're the only reason she's even in the army." Dylan spat.

"No. No, she wanted to follow in my footsteps…." He started, looking at Dylan like he'd never seen him before. Dylan shook his head mockingly.

"Is that what you really think? She signed up for her army cadetship because your beloved wife told her that what with the girls being so young you wouldn't be able to pay for med school. Only when she looked into it, the amount of student loan she would get was calculated on your income, whether you chose to share it or not. She would have got nothing. She wouldn't have been able to go to university."

"Maria would never say something like that. She loves Sammy; she's raised her from a teenager." Charles looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You're a fool and Sam deserves better. Get out. Now!" Dylan screamed at him. A healthcare assistant appeared at the door.

"Problem gents?" He enquired pointedly.

Charles and Dylan were staring each other in the eye. Charles looked away first, lowering his eyes to the floor and walking out. Dylan stood there staring after him, trying to control his breathing.

"I'm Joey." Dylan jumped and whirled round. He had been so angry with Charles he had forgotten there was another patient and relative in the room.

"Dylan. Sorry." He offered. He looked past her. The young man in the bed didn't seem to have batted an eyelid at the shouting match. That wasn't a good sign.

"You didn't wake him." She stood beside him companionably. "Its normal, you know, to lash out."

"Uh, that's not what happened." Dylan said quickly.

Joey nodded in an accepting way and Dylan dropped back down into the chair.

"She gone for a scan?" Joey said casually.

"I don't really want to talk right now." Dylan said shortly, regretting letting his panic get the better of him.

He had seen some awful things in his time in emergency medicine, seen death or worse take children and teenagers, seen some pointless waste of life. He had experienced the death of colleagues and students with their whole lives ahead of them, like Asta and Polly. But he had always been able to walk away when it got too much. Go away, struggle to find his equilibrium and return, battered but never broken. He prided himself on his control, on being able to keep his professional demeanour, to never let his emotions dictate how he did his job. He felt suddenly out of control, like the panic that had been slowly building since Sam's first tour had finally erupted and was in danger of burning him alive.

He clenched his jaw, shaking with the effort of trying to hold it together, looking at the empty space Sam's bed had left.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Dylan almost groaned as Sam's father stood up to make a speech. He looked as if he was used to public speaking but Dylan was slightly fuzzy on if he even had the right to be giving such a speech given the rubbish standard of parenting he had observed so far. Dylan had seen his wedding day nearly ruined by his inability to disagree with his wife about their children taking part and his obliviousness about Sam's insecurity of her place in his family hadn't endeared him either. _

_Dylan had also extracted from her that she had first looked into Army cadetship because of an offhand comment from Maria about not paying for Sam's degree. Dylan had no illusions he was a particularly forgiving person, on the contrary, he could hold a grudge like a pro, and the fact this man may be the reason he would be separated from his wife in the future was not going to be an easy thing to let go of._

_Charles droned on about how proud he was of Sam, following his footsteps and being a doctor at the same time, what a lovely couple they were etc. _

"_Sadly Sammy and Dylan wouldn't let me contribute to the wedding, they wanted to do it all themselves." Too bloody right thought Dylan; he would be cold and dead before he made Sam sit through her stepmother's torture that would have ensued if she had accepted a penny of her father's money for her wedding._

"_But Maria and I couldn't let it go entirely so we have a little gift for you." Dylan noticed Maria's smile became a bit fake as Charles handed a surprised Sam an envelope._

"_What is it Dad?" She asked, not having expected this at all._

"_Open it Sammy." He said genially._

_She opened it and brought out plane tickets. _

"_It's a holiday to Mexico!" She looked at Dylan amazed._

"_Thank you dad, Maria. We hadn't booked a honeymoon yet. It's so generous of you!" She said excitedly._

"_I looked into it and there are lots of adrenaline fuelled activities for you to try, I thought you'd like that!" He sat down, beaming at Sam's honestly happy reaction. Dylan tried valiantly to hide his annoyance. An extreme sports honeymoon. Oh Joy._

_His opinion of Charles went up a notch. He had clearly tried with his wedding present and he must have worked hard to get it past the wicked stepmother. Maybe he wasn't quite as rubbish as he appeared. Dylan smiled smugly at Maria and she smiled tightly back as if she had just swallowed a bug. Just that was worth suffering a bit of white water rafting._

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

When Sam came back to critical care so did Charles. He was silent, not engaging Dylan. He got another seat and sat on Sam's other side. Sam's consultant and a couple of juniors came in to talk to Dylan. They told him that the intracranial pressure hadn't decreased and that a craniotomy now was their best chance to limit the damage. Sam was whisked away rapidly after Dylan had consented and he was left again staring at the space Sam's bed had occupied.

He reflected if she woke up she would kill him for letting them shave a patch of her hair. Sam wasn't the vain type at all, but she did love her long hair and had once reacted with horror when Dylan had suggested if she cut it off she could spend less time in the shower. He hadn't been serious, he loved her hair too.

He realised this was the moment he had dreaded since Sam had first informed him she was a member of the armed forces. It was this fear that had driven his hatred of the army and had put a wedge between them from the start. He found himself thinking of his lively, reckless, energetic wife. What would be too much for her to bear? Losing her sight, hearing, and muscle control? Would the bleed have damaged her speech, the way she processed information or her memory? Or would it be the worst thing ever, her personality. How would she cope if she could no longer be a doctor? Despite all these things Dylan would rather she lived and was damaged, than was lost to him completely. He suspected Samantha herself would have disagreed with him.

Dylan and Charles waited in silence, a nurse showing them both to a relative's room where they could wait in comfort. Dylan sat with his head in his hands, trying to recite different medical conditions through his head to try and keep his brain from dwelling on Sam's operation and prognosis. Charles had loosened his tie and looked exhausted.

His phone rang and he took it outside talking quietly so as not to disturb anyone. In the silence Dylan could hear his conversation. He wasn't paying attention until he heard a familiar name. Charles was talking to his brother, Gray.

"The doctor says the operation will take a while. If she comes through it we won't know how she is until she wakes up." Dylan couldn't hear his brothers reply to that.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea. Trust me on this Gray, he's not doing well. You'd do more harm than good. He's barely tolerating me."

Dylan looked towards the door, not liking being discussed like this. Charles was right. He wasn't coping well. He would like to see how Charles would do if he had all the information Dylan had. They were lucky Dylan wasn't rocking in the corner from the sheer horrific possibilities. He needed to talk to someone whose first loyalty was to him. He got out his phone and called Jess.

"Dylan, thank god, how is she? It's all over the news" Jess answered her phone very fast, like she had been waiting for it to ring.

"She's in surgery. It's not good Jess." Dylan's self control broke then and his vision suddenly blurred. "I can't help her." He said unsteadily.

"You're there aren't you? She loves you and you're there with her. That's all you can do right now." Jess said, sounding like she was crying herself. "Dylan, there's still a chance, right? You know she would never give up."

Dylan smiled through his tears. "She would never give up." He confirmed feeling a little comforted.

"You and Sam are the strongest people I know. You deserve this to turn out okay. Do you want me to come up to Birmingham?"

"No, No. I'll be fine. Millie shouldn't see her like this." Dylan said wiping his eyes with his hand.

"Keep in touch then. Millie and I love you." Jess said

"Love you too." Dylan said.

Dylan sat there in silence. He could hear Charles finish with Gray and call Maria. To Dylan's pleasure Charles seemed a bit off hand with her and he reflected maybe he had done Sam a favour by giving her dad a dressing down. The older man was obviously considering what he had said.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Dylan was confused and didn't like it. Samantha's father was still playing on his mind. They had a few days before they were due to go to Mexico and Sam was looking forward to it, though she knew him well enough to know Dylan wasn't going to be going hang gliding anytime soon he might stretch to a bit of kayaking and surfing with good grace. She had taken her fathers gesture to heart and was obviously wildly happy he had given her his attention. This had completely thrown Dylan as he had always thought there was something deeper to her relationship with her father. Sam had told him at some point in their relationship in an offhand way that her mother died in a RTC when she was eleven. _

_Dylan sat with his glass of red wine and his laptop on the sofa with the lights dimmed. Sam was already in bed but he had some last minute stuff to sort out for one of his F2's before he left for Mexico. He thought back to the worst argument he had ever had with his wife, about driving Jess to the hospital. Given Sam's behaviour and the promise she had asked him for the next day, he would have put money on Charles being responsible for his first wife's death. _

_But the way Sam was behaving now didn't fit with his theory and he didn't want to bring it up with Sam. He of all people understood that families were difficult and there are some things you just don't bring up on a whim. He knew at some point he would tell her why he was so estranged from his own family, but he had no wish to force her into a similar admission. So Sam was out as a source of information, as was Maria as Dylan thought she was the devil. He could have asked his own family as they seemed to be acquainted, but that was never going to happen either. Dylan was left with one obvious option. _

_Google._

_He glanced towards the bedroom furtively and typed Charles Nicholls into the search engine._

_Hmmm. It looked like Sam's father was an MP. He hadn't known that. He hadn't particularly cared either to be honest. Dylan had assumed he was still in the army. That explained how he knew Gray if he was part of the Westminster set. Charles was apparently a relatively new MP, in at the 2005 election and was a member of the opposition, although Dylan reflected that could change at the next election. He had a constituency profile page which said a whole lot of nothing and barely mentioned Sam._

_He looked at the next link and saw it was a tabloid newspaper article from 2005 which included a photo of Charles and Maria and a separate photo of a younger Sam._

'_MP's Drunk Death Wife Heartache. _

_Newly elected Conservative MP Charles Nicholls is a family man with two young daughters and a dutiful wife, glamorous Maria who has joined him out on the campaign trail. Nothing has been said of his first wife, Allison with whom he has a grown up daughter Samantha and who passed away when Samantha was a child, leaving the former army officer widowed with an eleven year old daughter. He has spoke of the difficulties he faced at the time and raised the issue of government support for single parent families but he never divulged the circumstances of his first wife's death. Now this paper has obtained a police report suggesting that Allison Nicholls was the victim of a road traffic accident in which hers was the only vehicle involved. The inquest suggests Mrs Nicholls; a university lecturer in European history was over the limit at the time of the accident. The full shocking story is revealed in the police report which states that Mr Nicholls young daughter Samantha was also in the car the night of the accident and narrowly escaped serious injury. Allison and Samantha were returning from a party at a friend's house in Hertfordshire in December 1996 when Mrs Nicholls crashed the car on a deserted and notorious stretch of B road between Cottered and Ashton. Trapped in the car in the cold and the dark with her fatally injured mother, little Samantha endured five hours of waiting before another car noticed the crash site and was said to be deeply impacted by her ordeal. She is now training to be a doctor.'_

_Dylan sat back, shocked, ignoring the rest of the article. He felt guilty like he had broken Sam's trust somehow. He closed the page quickly and shut down his laptop. What was he supposed to do now? _

_He had just found out something major about his wife but he couldn't talk to her about it. It explained a lot about her, her fear of the dark obviously stemmed from this, although he still found her father's distance baffling. This was obviously a lot more complex than could be covered by a tabloid newspaper article. What had he been thinking? He cursed and took a big swig of his wine. He was in a worse place than when he had started._

* * *

Sam was brought back from surgery a little later. The surgery had gone well and her intracranial pressure was reducing slowly. Dylan restrained himself from asking to see her MRI not wanting to start guessing at the damage before she woke. She was just as still as before although she had gained a large dressing on the right side of her head with a surgical drain attached. Dylan and Charles silently resumed their places and the soldier's mother across the room watched them sympathetically before returning her attention to her son.

His phone rang again and Dylan was surprised and then slightly comforted to see it was Dixie. She was the first one of his and Sam's workmates to ring although Dylan had given Sam's consultant permission to keep the department updated through Nick. He had not wanted to have the same heartbreaking conversation fifteen times over, but found he didn't mind the idea of talking to Dixie.

He got up and went outside Sam's room to answer it. If Dixie hadn't talked to him before Sam returned to Afghanistan and given him a shock he wasn't sure he would have had the courage to fix things, however badly it had turned out now. She had at least given him the chance to know how Sam felt about him before she went abroad.

"Dixie." He was unsurprised she was the only one brave enough to call.

"Dylan. How are you?" This was such an unexpected question it nearly sent him over the edge again but he took a couple of deep breaths. He knew she probably heard it.

"Annoyed. Sam's come through surgery; they've had to do a craniotomy because of the bleeding. Stupid idiot went and got herself blown up." Dixie closed her eyes at the crack in his voice.

"You know what she's like. Always has to be at the centre of the action. That's why we love her." Dylan rolled his eyes at her words.

"Yes well she's certainly the centre of attention now. Even her father is here, annoying bastard. Never liked him."

"You know you're on the news. I can see why you didn't tell us your brothers a Lord. Don't expect to live that down quickly." Dylan almost laughed.

"I look forward to it." He meant it too. It seemed like a luxury at the moment, to be teased and be at work like normal.

"When will we know, about Sam?" Dixie asked matter of factly.

Talking to Dixie helped; it was almost as if they were discussing a patient like normal. "She's come through the surgery alright and if the intracranial pressure reduces further they can reduce the sedation. Then we just have to wait for her to wake up."

"Good. We can't wait to have you both back. Is it alright if I call tomorrow for an update?"

"It's fine."

"We're all thinking of you Dylan." Dixie said honestly.

"Thank you." Dylan murmured embarrassed before hanging up abruptly.

* * *

Dylan finally dozed off around eleven in the morning and woke with a start to find Captain Flanagan's hand on his shoulder. Sam's junior doctor gave him an apologetic look. "We are going to reduce the sedation now and try and get her off the vent. You know as well as I do it doesn't necessarily mean anything if she doesn't wake up straight away. Would you like to stay for this or go get a coffee?"

"Stay." Dylan sat up in the chair and checked his watch. He saw it was now the middle of the afternoon and stretched absent mindedly watching the other doctor.

The Army doctor disconnected two of Sam's IV bags and nodded to Dylan. He sat down in the chair the other side of Sam's bed, looking at a file and keeping an eye on the monitors. Dylan realised Charles must left and wondered if he was on the phone again.

Dylan picked up Sam's hand again and was heartened to receive a reaction as if she felt the contact, even though she didn't wake. The army doctor moved forward and disconnected the ventilator, keeping an eye on her oxygen saturation. At first it plummeted sharply, but then Sam's body took over and she began breathing on her own again. Dylan couldn't help the breath of relief that escaped him as this first hurdle was overcome.

To his joy she started to cough and opened her eyes and the army medic moved swiftly to remove the endotracheal tube, leaving her still coughing. She quietened down and closed her eyes again soon after but her oxygen sats remained stable. Captain Flanagan looked at him with satisfaction.

"She woke up on her own. That's a good sign. Hopefully it won't be long now." He gave Dylan a friendly grin and left and Dylan took Sam's hand again, more optimistic now than he had been in the last 24 hours put together.


	10. Chapter 10

The Damage we do – Chapter 10

Okay, never been to Mexico, didn't plan on writing a scene set in Mexico, but Dylan got drunk on tequila and he talked.

This chapter took so long because of me taking ages researching the medical stuff. Silly me, since it's still probably wrong!

As always,

Past – italics

Present – normal text

Massive thanks to reviewers Ficmouse, bigapplecat, Swebby, Callie Rawston, Trying to understand and Lisa95.

Please Review!

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

Sam felt really weird. She wanted to wake up because she could sense other people in the room but she felt oddly paralysed, like it was too much effort to really open her eyes fully and move. She tried though, really hard and she finally felt like she was getting somewhere. She opened her eyes and the room looked familiar, like maybe she had been awake before although she didn't remember it. She searched her memory desperately to label this place and how she came to be here but came up short. Someone was holding her hand. She moved her head and felt a blinding flash of pain. She moaned loudly and the hand holding hers moved violently and suddenly Dylan was leaning over her, looking the worst she had ever seen him. Suddenly she remembered Afghanistan, she was there.

"Dylan, no, not safe" She managed to say croakily. Everything was strange, her words didn't sound right. He looked like he was trying to say something to calm her down but he was talking too quietly. She strained to hear him but she still felt so sleepy and confused and she couldn't help dropping off again.

* * *

Dylan's heart broke at her words. All she had been through and she was worried for **him.** The doctor had told him it was common for service members injured in theatre to wake up still thinking they were out there. Still to see it in Sam was disconcerting and he hadn't seemed to have been able to calm her down.

She had recognised him thankfully and her speech and vision had seemed intact. He could mark those two off the list. Although she remembered him it would take a lot longer conversation before Dylan was satisfied her memory was intact. Obviously she didn't remember being flown home but that wasn't unusual in head injuries as severe as hers. Dylan felt something unclench inside him. She was awake, she knew who he was and she still seemed like Sam.

* * *

_Mexico, 2009_

_Dylan waited for Sam, leaning on the balcony looking out over the hotel pool. It was a small hotel and thankfully it was mostly couples and no children. He had spent a perfectly amazing day swimming and relaxing on the beach and had been strict with himself and only snuck a quick peek at the back of the murder mystery he had been reading when he had been absolutely sure he had guessed the murderer correctly. Sam had spent the morning and most of the afternoon with him and then he had watched as she flew past him at speed, trying out kite surfing. _

_They had eaten dinner and had a minor food fight over the dessert, which was why Sam was changing. Her light blue top had not survived the battle. Dylan was sure half the restaurant had thought they were crazy, but she would insist she didn't want dessert, until his arrived and then it was all 'go on let me have a bit' and it turned out stealing a sundae off someone wasn't as easy as it looked. Dylan was quite impressed he had managed to hold on to it for as long as he had. Sam was a highly trained member of the armed forces after all. That he himself had been wiping cream off his ears for the last five minutes was beside the point._

_It had absolutely nothing to do with the large amounts of tequila sunrises that they had both consumed. They had both agreed to a strategic retreat to clean up their battle damage before going on to see what the local nightlife was like, although there was a mutual agreement to avoid the karaoke bars. This was turning into a great holiday. _

_Stumbling back into their suite later they got ready for bed laughing, both drunker than they usually felt able to be back in the city in which they lived and worked. Dylan stripped off his clothes after brushing his teeth and put the light on for Sam before collapsing into the bed._

_Sam had already changed and was taking off her makeup in the bathroom. She switched off the light and walked into the bedroom. She automatically went to turn the light on, and was confused when it was already on. _

"_You left the light on." She turned to him confused._

_Dylan propped himself up on one elbow to look at her. "Yes."_

"_You never leave the light on. I always have to do it."_

"_So. I was being nice." He said, perfectly aware that knowing why Sam was afraid of the dark had obviously altered his attitude to how she dealt with it._

_Sam looked at him closely and Dylan looked away quickly, aware that this made him look guiltily, but having no defences in his inebriated state._

"_We are married now." He said, trying to keep his voice casual._

"_That's not why you left it on, is it?" She questioned in a dangerous tone._

"_Er, yes of course it is. I have to be nicer to you now." He said turning away cringing as he said it._

"_What like sharing your dessert you mean? You haven't changed since we got married Dylan. Not that I wanted you to. So why?" She sat down on the bed and Dylan closed his eyes but she didn't move and he could feel her eyes on him, waiting._

_He snapped his eyes open and sat up in the bed. "Fine. I did something that perhaps I shouldn't have done."_

_Sam tilted her head at him. "What precisely did you do Dylan?" Her tone hadn't lost the 'big trouble' tone._

"_I was curious about your father. So I googled him and I found this newspaper article…" He trailed off._

_Sam gazed at him angrily. "I know the one. Well that's great. Really easy for you I suppose, just a cold newspaper story, no messy emotions to deal with. I'm not poor little Samantha, Dylan. I can look after myself." She left the bedroom and slammed the door. _

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

Sam returned to awareness gradually, feeling movement near her and sensing the sunlight on her face. She opened her eyes and blinked as her eyes watered in the bright light. She was staring at a hospital room, but it wasn't anywhere in the field hospital in Camp Bastion. It looked like a typical NHS facility.

Dylan was sat by her side, flicking listlessly through a dog eared paper. She vaguely remembered waking before and feeling panicked but that feeling had subsided now. There was something that felt wrong about the hospital room though, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Her entire body felt heavy and stiff and her mouth felt dry. She tried to move her head again and although she felt like her head might explode, the pain wasn't unmanageable like it was before.

Dylan dropped the paper on her side table and sprung forward at her movement.

He moved closer to her and said something but it was distant as if from a long way away and she couldn't quite register it. He still looked awful and his clothes looked like he had been wearing them for several days.

"Grumpy." She managed to say, before coughing at the dryness in her throat. Her voice sounded odd to her own ears and she frowned as she accepted the water Dylan offered her.

He was talking again and Sam realised she couldn't hear him. He must be talking normally, she just couldn't hear him. Her hand without the IV in went to her ear. She must have been in an explosion. That might explain her hearing loss.

"Dylan. I can't hear you." She said as he continued to talk at her. He stopped and looked at her consideringly.

"Nothing?" He formed the word slowly and she was able to understand. She went to shake her head and was met with a jolt of pain.

"Nothing." She confirmed. He left her side and returned with paper and pen.

How do you feel? He wrote.

"My head hurts. Where am I? What happened?" Sam asked, still confused by the abnormal sound of her voice.

You're at Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham. You got blown up. Idiot. He held up to her.

She almost smiled at her husband's typical attitude. "What about my team? Are they okay? I was out with them wasn't I?"

You don't remember? He held up.

"No, nothing." Sam said and realised she must have had a head injury as she literally didn't remember leaving Bastion and it was unlikely she had been injured there.

There was an explosion. You and another soldier were injured and two soldiers died. I'm really sorry, I don't know who. I can find out for you. He held the note up apologetically and Sam's breath hitched as she read it. She turned her head carefully away from him. He didn't seem to move, but she felt his hand fold itself around hers and she shifted it so their fingers were intertwined. She needed to know which of her team hadn't made it back but at the same time not knowing meant that they were all still alive, if only in her head.

"How long?" Sam asked and was surprised to see Dylan look at the paper blankly as he picked up the paper and pen to write. He looked almost confused as he stared around the room as if trying to remember and then pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen and Sam realised he genuinely didn't know how long they had been here. That wasn't like Dylan at all and she felt awful for the hell he had probably been through.

Hospital 2 days. You had a head injury. Had craniotomy. He finally wrote and Sam noticed the handwriting on the last part was a bit shaky. No wonder he looked awful. Sam squeezed his hand and their eyes met. He took in a deep breath and dropped into the chair beside her bed. Sam was overwhelmed by the sheer relief on his face and he reached out his hand to smooth down her hair. He had obviously suffered and it all seemed to be hitting him now. His eyes were glistening and he fumbled around for the paper and pen.

Well done on not being dead. He held up, accompanying it with a thumbs up. She laughed and then winced at the way it made the pain in her head worse. She shifted in the bed.

"I had neurosurgery? How's my MRI?" she asked.

Dylan rolled his eyes and wrote. I don't know, I'm your husband, not your doctor. Your consultant should be round later.

"Can you find out for me? Who I lost?" She felt the tiredness pressing down on her and tried valiantly to focus on Dylan.

He nodded and she let herself close her eyes for a moment.

* * *

_Mexico, 2009_

_The next morning Dylan woke up to find Sam gone. He waited in the hotel room anxiously for Sam to return not wanting to miss her. He must have fallen back to sleep at some point as he was woken up by the opening of the door. _

"_I'm fine, really. I'm a doctor, I can look after myself."_

_Dylan walked into the living area. Sam was standing with an older Mexican man, trying to shoo him out of the door but he was having none of it._

"_What's going on here?" Dylan asked, and then caught sight of the laceration on Sam's forehead and friction burn on her shoulder and down her left arm._

"_Sam! What happened?" As soon as he said it he knew, he knew the way Sam worked. He had first noticed it on the commute to work, if they had an argument or disagreement the night before, Sam would be more reckless than usual, risking the changing traffic lights and squeezing into spaces cyclists with a healthy sense of self preservation would have balked at. _

"_Your wife is crazy! She not going again. I leave her with you." He said in imprecise English and left, obviously considering his work done. _

_Dylan caught her head in his hands and peered at the laceration. She allowed it for a second and then pulled away defiantly. "I'm fine."_

"_What did you do?" He asked, trying to keep his anger under control._

"_I was just having some fun. This is my honeymoon." She walked away from him impatiently and went into the bathroom for their first aid kit._

_Dylan followed her. "It's **our **honeymoon." He took the first aid kit off her and motioned for her to jump up on the tiled bathroom counter to the left of the sink._

"_Well since you wouldn't come I had to have fun for the both of us." She said cheekily._

"_This isn't fun Sam. You could have really been hurt. Even that Mexican bloke thought you were crazy and they're not exactly health and safety sticklers out here." Dylan said tightly and Sam shot him a mocking look. _

"_Did you lose consciousness at all?" He took out the penlight and proceeded to check her pupil response. She brushed him away._

"_No Dylan, I'm fine, I told you. It's just a scrape." Sam said in a humouring voice._

"_Right well, I'm sorry." Dylan had to say before she annoyed him so much he was incapable of saying it._

"_What do you mean?" Sam challenged._

"_You've obviously done this to get back at me for what I told you yesterday. Well it worked okay? The worst thing you can do to me is put yourself in danger." Dylan said calmly while he cleaned the grazes on her arm._

_Sam looked at him in annoyance. "I didn't do this on purpose. I just got a little close to the trees that's all."_

"_Fine." Dylan said shortly, if she wasn't going to admit it then there was no point continuing the conversation. He continued cleaning her arm in silence._

"_We should do something together tomorrow. There's a boat trip to see some turtles." He finally offered._

_Sam snapped her head back in confusion and regarded him with a raised eyebrow "Turtles?"_

"_Turtles." Dylan confirmed, feeling slightly ridiculous._

"_Okay. Turtles it is." She said, the guarded part of her expression now replaced with amusement._

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

When she awoke again there was a crowd of people around her bed. Dylan was leaning against her window sill looking like he belonged there and she just caught the back of her father disappearing out of the room.

"Ah, Major Nicholls, it's about time." Her consultant said, slowly and carefully so she could see the words as he formed them.

"Lieutenant Colonel King. Sorry to keep you waiting sir." Sam replied. Her headache hadn't lessened.

"Nothing wrong with your memory then." He addressed her wryly. The neurosurgeon nodded to her and appeared to be addressing his juniors, but Sam couldn't catch what they were saying.

Dylan was silent, but Sam could see he was listening intently. She should be watching King and his team to find out how she was doing, but she felt herself examining Dylan. He looked like he had changed his clothes since she had last seen him although she was fairly sure it was just later on the same day. He looked knackered like he had just worked several night shifts in a row, but his expression was much more relaxed than when she had seen him last.

She felt a touch on her hand and saw her consultant was trying to get her attention.

"How are you feeling Major?" He asked carefully.

"I have a hell of a headache and I can't hear anything. Other than that fine." She said

He nodded. "Can you hear any sounds at all?"

Sam listened for a moment. "Maybe a buzzing from really far away?"

"Could just be from the explosion. You were very close apparently. We have you on Magnesium to lessen the effects. Right, tomorrow, we'll get you up and about."

Sam could just about follow that. "Yes sir."

"Oh and there's still a lot of swelling to go down. I wouldn't worry just yet about your hearing Major. Good to see you again." He added as he left.

Dylan rolled his eyes behind him and Sam almost laughed at her husband judging someone else for being insensitive. He picked up the pen and paper. Did you catch any of that?

Sam couldn't help smiling. "A bit. Not worried about the hearing yet. Getting up and about tomorrow."

Dylan nodded satisfied.

"He obviously thinks the hearing problems are noise induced, not neurological. My MRI can't be that bad. He wasn't shocked that I remembered his name."

How do you know him? He didn't mention he knew you. Dylan wrote.

"Well I keep sending him patients don't I? I've met him at conferences too. You know us army docs stick together at those kinds of things. He may not look like it, but his version of Tom Jones Delilah raised the roof in Manchester last year." She looked at Dylan and he wasn't replying, just watching her, as if he was afraid she was too good to be true. She gave him a small smile and he looked away as if embarrassed.

Did you do Aqua Barbie girl? He held up solemnly. She couldn't reach him to hit his arm like he rightfully deserved so she narrowed her eyes at him in promise of future pain, not able to help the small smile that slipped through her defences at his antics.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Sam looked around the flat, sure she had forgotten something and was going to remember exactly what it was and how crucial it was on the plane to Germany. _

"_Don't bother. If you've forgotten anything I can just send it or bring it when I come for the weekend." Dylan stood behind her, so close she leaned back against him contentedly. _

"_When I come back I expect a shortlist of potential houses and for you not to have eaten your body weight in Chinese takeaway's okay?" She said, unsurprised he had read her mind. _

"_I like Chinese food." He said the hint of a whine in his voice, resting his chin on her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist. _

"_It's not one of the five food groups, Keogh!" She teased._

"_It's one of my five food groups." He said sulkily and Sam rolled her eyes._

"_Along with wine, chocolate, whiskey and coffee do you mean?" She said sarcastically. "I've stocked the fridge and I'll be sending Jess and Millie over to check!" _

"_You can't call me Keogh anymore, you know." He said changing the subject masterfully. "You're a Keogh too. Dr Samantha Keogh."_

_Sam smiled and turned to face him. "It feels strange, to still be Lieutenant Nicholls for the army. It's like I'm one person for work and another person in real life."_

"_You could always stay Dr Nicholls." He said searching her expression in concern. "I wouldn't be offended; it's always been your choice."_

_She couldn't help smiling. "I know. It makes sense to keep the same name I started with in the army and that's that. But outside work, I like it Dylan, I like we have the same name. It means something to me." She said feeling like she had to say it before she went to Germany but feeling awkward and vulnerable at the same time._

_Dylan pulled her close. "It means something to me too."_

"_The dog will get confused otherwise. You know, when they call his name at the vets. 'Why do I have a different name than daddy?'" Sam said the last in a squeaky voice, laughing into his chest._

"_A different name than mummy you mean, since you'll be away lots. Anyway, we are clear that it's going to be a dog and not a baby-substitute, yes? It's not sleeping on the bed Sam! And this will be the last time we mention the names mummy and daddy in relation to a dog. We aren't complete weirdoes'." Dylan said horrified at the thought._

"_Alright, but remember don't commit to anything without telling me first. If I come back and there's a Great Dane sleeping in my spot I won't be happy. What we want is a nice rescue dog or puppy. And…."_

"_Yes Sam I remember, no yappy dogs, poncy dogs or fluffy dogs." He recited back in mock patient tone._

"_Three months. Twelve weeks. That's not so long is it? We can do this can't we?" Sam said, letting her game face drop for a rare moment._

"_Of course we can. Don't be so dramatic. I'll be over in a month and I expect you to show me all the sights of Paderborn. I'll expect all the good views and places of historical and cultural significance." Sam raised an eyebrow and regarded him sceptically._

"_Fine, I'll expect a good restaurant and for you to actually be off duty."_

"_Done." Sam agreed. _

"_So this is it, your final placement of your F1 year." He kissed her head. "Good luck darling."_

_Sam let go of him and picked up her backpack "Thanks grumpy. Sure you still want to drive me to Birmingham in that bucket of bolts?"_

"_Yes." He said, grabbing her other bag._

"_I'm coming back, you know." She said seriously_

"_I know. I'll be here." He met her eyes for a moment before shooing her out of the door._


	11. Chapter 11

The Damage We Do – Chapter 11

As always

_Italics – Past_

Present- normal text.

I apparently passed my exams, no resits for me which means I am now a final year student, yippee!

This chapter was getting too long so I split it in half so the other part should be up within the next day or so. As usual I can't go to bed until I post this, does anyone else suffer from this weird fanfic-related affliction? Anyway, Thanks to Ficmouse and Trying to understand for the reviews, feedback is much appreciated :)

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

The atmosphere in the ward was quiet. Sam still hadn't seen her father since she had spotted him leaving during rounds. The mother of the patient in the bed opposite had left for a moment, she had said something to Dylan before she left but Sam was still unable to hear what people were saying. It was odd, like there was a bit of the world she was disconnected from. She was really hoping it would get better, because she was unsure how she would be able to function in emergency medicine without her hearing. Before she could think about her future though, Sam knew there was something important she had to know so she forced herself to speak.

"Did you find out what happened to my team?"

Dylan rubbed his forehead like he had a headache. He nodded and reached for the controls to her bed, raising her carefully to a sitting position before going for the paper and pen, writing what seemed to Sam waiting impatiently like a small essay.

Jonathan Brown and Sarah Mathieson. They didn't make it to Bastion. The other serious injury is Ryan Jones. He's here in critical care.

Sam drew in a distressed breath as she read this and Dylan sat on her bed.

"It's not your fault, Sam" He said, clearly forgetting she couldn't hear him but she understood him as he didn't break eye contact.

"How do you know? I don't even know. I should never have volunteered to go back early." Dylan leant back sharply at this but Sam's attention was elsewhere.

"Sarah was only a territorial; she had a family, a little boy. It's not fair." She looked down at her hands.

Dylan looked almost angry as he gently lifted her chin so she could see what he was saying. "You have a family too Samantha, don't forget that."

"I didn't mean…" She trailed off, unsure what she had meant, just sure she wished her colleagues were alright. Dylan's attention was distracted by the mother of the patient opposite returning. She placed a steaming coffee on Sam's side table and said something to Dylan, giving Sam a friendly smile before returning to her son's bedside.

Dylan made to get up off the bed and Sam caught his hand knowing she wanted him to stay but not really knowing exactly what she wanted from him. He got up and pulled away from her hand and Sam was confused until he walked around the other side of the bed, where she was less attached with wires. He shifted her over and got on the bed with her and she needed no further encouragement to let herself be folded into his arms.

Sam lay in his arms thinking of her colleagues, Jonny the eternal optimist with his total obsession with Luton Town football team and Sarah, who she had seen be a mother figure to people only a couple of years younger than her as they struggled with terrifying injuries and who would show a picture of her little boy to anyone who stood still long enough.

"Jamie." She whispered absently.

She felt rather than heard Dylan's response as it vibrated through his chest. "Sarah's little boy. His name is Jamie. He's nine." She shook her head but stopped as another jolt of pain raced through her head. "I know I'm just a doctor. But I was the officer. They were my responsibility. I never understood why you felt so bad about Asta and about what happened with that F2 afterwards. Now I think I do." She desperately tried to hold herself together and she felt Dylan's arms tighten around her. She felt him kiss her head.

"Do you know what happened?" Sam said quietly, not holding out much hope.

Dylan shook his head. Sam tried to think of the last thing she remembered before waking up here but it was a bit of a mess and her headache made it difficult to concentrate properly. She tried to think of the last mission she remembered, a building collapse in which a couple of people had been injured. It had been her last call of the day before the other team took over so it was unlikely she had gone straight back out. That meant she was missing a substantial chunk of time. For a moment Sam was sure she could hear the roar of a Chinook and got a brief flash of Sarah smiling at something as they left but the memory slipped out of her grasp and she couldn't get any further. She lay back against Dylan, trying to come to terms with the gaping hole she knew those two people would leave in so many lives.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

"_Dylan, you should go home." He turned around to see Dr Donald watching him. "I'm just looking through the F1's portfolios so far, and it's a good job I have, some of them are a dog's dinner and they have to be submitted in a matter of weeks."_

_The older doctor perched herself on the edge of the desk. "You spend way more time with them than any other trainer in this department. You're always so patient. Even with what-ser-name."_

"_Ebony Shah, yes she is a bit of a nightmare, but there's no reason she won't become a competent doctor. She just doesn't have the emergency medicine temperament. She's very good with children and older people. She just needs a bit of confidence dealing with the generations in the middle and she'll be a brilliant general practitioner, which is what she wants."_

"_And you've told her that?"_

"_Of course I have, she needs confidence, not like Mo Hassan who needs his overconfidence beaten out of him every time I see him, typical surgeon in the making, he won't be cured till he kills someone and that is **not **happening on my watch."_

"_I worry about you Dylan." She said gently._

_He looked up in surprise. "What? Why?"_

"_You give them so much trying valiantly to make sure each passes safely. Sooner or later one of them will fail and it'll hurt you badly. You take it so personally. Especially now Sam is away. You practically live here. I thought you were going to get a dog?"_

"_I haven't got round to it. And I don't take it personally." Dylan said annoyed._

"_It really wasn't your fault you know." She said meaningfully._

_Dylan shuffled some pictures on the desk, avoiding her eyes. "Of course not. I never said… That's not what this is about."_

"_Asta was a troubled young woman placed in a high stress situation particularly painful for her and she just cracked." Dr Donald continued in the same infuriatingly gentle tone._

"_Well that's easy for you to say when you weren't the one who put her there, isn't it." Dylan snapped._

_He lowered his eyes again. "Fine, I'll go home. I'll think about what you've said." He grabbed his rucksack and his coat and beat a strategic retreat from the office, feeling Dr Donald's eyes on his back. _

_Great job Keogh, he thought. Now he had yelled at his boss and was going to have to go home to his cold empty flat. On impulse he stopped at the off license and bought two bottles of wine. He didn't know if he could take five more weeks of this. He ate some cheese and drunk three glasses of red and then called Sam._

"_Hello Dylan." She said cheerfully, Dylan could hear the sounds of a bar in the background, which was just as well considering the late hour. She would have been annoyed if he had woken her up, but he just needed to hear her voice._

"_Hello darling. Where are you, it sounds loud?"_

"_Just one of the bars in town." The noises faded as Sam found a more hospitable environment for a phone call. "You're up late." She said questioningly._

"_I had a bit of a set-to with Dr Donald. Well, it was mostly me doing the arguing. She thinks I'm getting too involved with the F1''s and F2's."_

"_You'll find it hard to defend against that Grumpy. You did marry one!" Sam said teasingly. "What precisely does she take issue with? Don't forget, I'll be displeased if you replace me with a younger model."_

"_The youngest is the same age as you, but thank you for reminding me of my advanced age. I don't know, I just do my job. It's not as if I want them to fail."_

"_I'm sure she doesn't want that either. You were a perfectly normal trainer when I had you. Better than average actually." Sam said casually._

"_What a ringing endorsement. I'm so glad I married you, you obviously appreciate me." Dylan said grumpily as Sam dissolved into laughter._

"_Of course I appreciate you. I miss you. What did you have for dinner?"_

"_Er…Salad." Dylan hedged._

"_Try again." Sam said not buying it for a second. _

"_Wine and cheese." Dylan confessed and he could picture her on the other end of the phone with one hand on her forehead in a pained manner._

_She sighed. "Tomorrow, you have to eat at least one meal with a decent portion of vegetables in it. All that cheese and wine will turn you French you know."_

"_My god Sam, there's no need to fight dirty. I promise to eat something a rabbit would find appetising tomorrow. How's work?"_

"_Still a bit boring after Plymouth and Birmingham. The social life out here is making up for it as always. Only five more weeks thank goodness. My portfolio is almost complete, you'll be happy to know."_

"_Well at least you're one F1 I won't have to worry about." He said._

"_Liar." Sam said teasingly. "I'm the one you worry most about."_

"_It's a full time job, worrying about you. I'm surprised I manage to do any work at all." Dylan huffed. _

"_Just remember I'm always at the end of the phone. I'm in Germany not Antarctica. Just because I'm not there with you, it doesn't mean I don't love you." She said seriously_

"_I love you too. You know how it is. Bad day." Dylan for once didn't try and deflect the seriousness of the conversation. _

"_It's crap not having each other to come home to isn't it." Sam said tonelessly and Dylan realised with a start she was just as miserable as he was, she was just hiding it better. _

"_I thought…" He said before he could stop himself. _

"_What, you thought you were the only one finding it hard? I know it's my fault Dylan. I can't moan about it to you, how could I?" She sounded upset._

"_I don't blame you Sam. I just miss you. I've never missed anyone so much before."_

"_Oi Nicko! What you doing out here? Do you want in on this taxi or what?" A man's voice with a strong London accent came over the phone._

"_I'll be there in a minute, just on the phone to my husband." Sam said to him._

"_Ah, the famous Dylan! She misses you loads bro, she doesn't shut up about you, especially in work. Dylan said, Dylan taught me…."He put on a high feminine voice that didn't sound like Sam at all._

"_Shut up!" Sam said sounding embarrassed and the mans voice shut off as the sound of Sam hitting someone came over the phone and Dylan tried not to laugh at the idea of Sam quoting him to her colleagues._

"_It was one occasion, alright." She said, obviously speaking to him again. "You're never going to let me live this down are you?"_

"_No." Dylan said dryly, still with a massive smile on his face._

"_I have to go. I love you grumpy."_

"_Love you too." Sam hung up and Dylan shook his head with a smile to himself as he tidied up the wine glass and bottles._

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

Sam was happy to see her father later in the day. He had obviously changed his clothes and he also looked very tired just like Dylan. At seeing her awake he came forward and kissed her forehead. He seemed ill at ease around Dylan, which confused her a little. Dylan ignored it and picked up the same newspaper he had been pretending to read earlier. If he spent any more time with it he would be able to recite it verbatim.

Her father sat down in a chair that had been left by the side of her bed on the opposite side to where Dylan had obviously made camp.

"How are you feeling Sammy?" He said slowly and Sam was happy to hear she could make out he was speaking, although the exact words were still beyond her hearing at this point. Hearing how long the words lasted made it easier to work out what he was saying, so it was only a small pause before she responded.

"Better than earlier, dad." He looked relieved at her words and replied but Sam didn't catch it.

"Sorry?" She said, hoping this was not a nasty preview of her future. Dylan passed over the paper and pen, saying something to her father without looking up from his paper.

"You gave us quite a scare." He tried again slowly and Sam got it this time.

"So I've heard. Sorry dad."

"Maria, Clem and Immy send their love. I'll bring them to see you when you're a bit better."

Sam nodded, thinking she had understood that but not holding her breath on it actually happening. She had seen Clem and Imogen only three times in the four years she had been married to Dylan, and two of those times she had dropped in unexpectedly. She got on very well with them and luckily Maria didn't dare misdirect her gifts to the girls at Christmas and birthday's so they hadn't forgotten who she was.

"When do you think you'll regain your hearing?" He said uncomfortably and Sam was reminded of his hatred of hospitals and sickness. After her mother had died she had found it difficult to talk, sometimes not speaking for days at first and this lack of communication had been the most difficult thing for him to deal with. He had taken her to psychologists and psychiatrists but in the end it was his decision to hire an au pair that had helped Sam the most. The young Swedish woman, whose only responsibility and focus was Sam herself was much more able to help Sam than her father, who had been dealing with his wife's death and trying to do his job, which incidentally involved a lot of travelling, at the same time. Emma had been there for Sam through the difficult year after her mother's death and through the first year of her father's marriage to Maria, which had been deeply confusing to her. She was a child psychologist in her native Sweden now and Sam was still in contact with her via email.

"I don't know." Sam said and fidgeted with her gown nervously, not wanting to talk about this. Her father seemed to sense this and he changed the subject by retrieving a newspaper from the messenger bag by his side. He placed it in front of her as if it spoke for itself and Sam was startled to see her face staring back at her from the print. She grabbed it and pulled it closer. It detailed her regiment, her job, lots about her father, and even some things about Dylan's brother. It listed the dead member's of her team and Sam felt her vision blur with unshed tears as she saw her friends names in print. It said she had been injured in a second wave suicide bombing. She waited, but no new memories came at this information. After what happened with Salaih Arangar she had regretted what she had done. What if she had hesitated at the crucial moment? Was this her fault?

"Dad, do you know what happened out there?" He looked at her carefully.

"I've seen the reports. The investigation is still officially ongoing. I can't tell you what's in the reports Sammy. Do you remember anything?" Sam looked away and suddenly she was in a dust filled room, someone was screaming nearby and the noise of the helicopter was blocking out everything else. She moved her head to see who was screaming and suddenly she was back in her hospital room. She inhaled sharply. Her father was still watching her carefully.

"No. I don't remember anything." She said levelly. She looked back down at the newspaper. "How did they get my name?"

Her father looked embarrassed. "Balls up at Westminster. It's my area of responsibility you see. I usually get incident reports sent to my blackberry. They sent me one with your name in it. One of my staff caught the mistake straight away and got someone to pull me out of the chamber to tell me properly but it got caught on camera."

Sam barely followed that. Frustrated, she threw the paper down. "I never agreed to this. My photo and that I'm a member of the armed forces is out there. How can I still do my job overseas? They've made me a target."

She sensed Dylan looking at her and met his eyes and remembered with a jolt the conversation they had over the phone before she had deployed.

"Excuse me." He said, and walked off, looking ready to hit something.

Her father placed his hand on hers to get her attention. "This has been very hard on him you know. He nearly decked me the first night."

Sam frowned, that wasn't her grumpy at all. He had grown up in a family of lawyers after all; he knew that words were the best form of both defence and offence. She remembered the night of the E.D. fire and trying to do her job through the slow realisation that she may never see her husband ever again. If what he had been through had been anything like that, he had probably been in pieces.

She met her father's eyes. "What are my chances, of going back to active duty?"

"Assuming your hearing returns and there are no other ill effects, good. Is that what you want?" Her father sat back in his chair.

"No. I want out." She said with conviction, deciding then and there that this was the last trauma she was ever going to put Dylan through.

"I'll see to it Sammy." He promised, looking as relieved as she felt. Now that the decision had been made it was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"I won't be here tomorrow, I have to go back to London, but I'll be back up on Sunday if you're still here. You look much better you know, despite the …." He gestured to the bruise on her face.

"Thanks dad." She said sarcastically.

"It's made me realise how little we see of each other. Maybe we should do something to change that." He got up and picked up his bag.

"I'd like that." Sam smiled and he leant in and hugged her.


	12. Chapter 12

The Damage We Do – Chapter 12

Note: The pyjamas I describe here are really available, at Topshop. Weird. Also although I cover some sensitive subjects in this chapter I hope I have treated them appropriately.

_Italics – past_

Present- normal text

Abbreviations

MI – Myocardial Infarction (heart attack)

CCU – Coronary Care Unit

EDL – English Defence League

Please Review. By the way, excited for new Sam episode on Saturday. Increasingly concerned Kate might be dead in Bedlam though Nooo!

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

The next day saw Sam moved out of critical care and to a ward with more beds. All the patients were service personnel or young people which Sam quite liked even though she wasn't much of a communicator at the moment. She could now discern speech if people spoke quite loudly, which had the dual effect of deterring any private conversation and also meant most people spoke to her in a patronisingly loud tone which couldn't help but infuriate her. Only Dylan seemed to be able to talk to her with any sensitivity, he seemed to instinctively know what would annoy her and avoid it.

Sam couldn't help but compare this experience with a few years ago when she had done a foundation placement at Queen Elizabeth hospital back when it had still been Selly Oak hospital in the old building. It was very strange, and very disorientating to see the process from the other side, especially as she watched the junior doctors go about their work just as she had done.

"Dylan, what did you do with Dervla?" Sam said curiously as it occurred to her Dylan had not been home for at least 4 days.

"Big Mac." Dylan said simply, refraining from shouting, which Sam was thankful for.

"What are you doing about work?" She asked casually.

He regarded her incredulously. "Nothing. I'm obviously not available at the moment due to personal reasons. I'm sure Nick is covering my shifts."

"When do you think I can get out of here?" She said restlessly.

"You almost died, idiot. It might be a few days." Dylan returned with exasperation.

She was now sitting cross legged on the bed in some patterned pyjamas Dylan had gone out and bought for her, since her stuff was still waiting to be shipped back from Afghan and he hadn't been back to Holby. The pattern on the pyjamas was moustaches for some strange reason, with a top that said I heart moustaches. Dylan had an odd sense of humour sometimes. A nurse came by at intervals to scold her for crossing her legs as she kept forgetting she hadn't long had surgery.

She was still living with an almost constant headache, but the pain was reducing every day. There had been some dizziness, especially when the physiotherapist had stopped by to see her and made her walk. She was now able to use the bathroom on her own, for which she was eternally grateful. She had been surprised by just how weak she had felt after each small exertion and at the way her muscles and joints seemed almost bruised from the trauma of the explosion.

Walking had taken more effort than she had though possible, and it had felt wrong somehow, uncoordinated and jerky. She wasn't sure if it was from the dizziness or something more sinister, but she had covered it well enough that the physiotherapist had just put it down to the dizziness. Dylan had noticed though and he had watched her carefully ever since. She had yet to attempt to do anything that required any fine muscle control and she was becoming a little afraid to, as if it would give her away that she wasn't the same Sam she had been before. If she didn't recover fully she couldn't be a doctor and given her conversation with her father about the army the day before, she would be left with nothing.

Nothing except Dylan, and while she loved her husband more than anything else in the world, they had fallen for each other as equals, despite the difference in age and experience. She had never felt that their partnership was unequal, even if he had always earned more than she did. If she was unable to do her job she knew it would impact her relationship too. Sam had no illusions that she would be able to deal with it gracefully or become a stay-at-home wife. She wasn't wired that way. Her mother and even her father, for all his faults had raised her to have ambitions and expectations of her life since she was a small child. They had taught her she was perfectly capable of looking after herself, earning her own living and being her own person. To rely on someone else that much was unthinkable.

She forced herself to look at the positives. This was a lot better than being dead or seriously brain damaged and she knew she had been very lucky to escape both of those outcomes. She was still sleeping an uncharacteristic amount and didn't try to fight it as she knew it was her body's way of repairing after the trauma she had put it through.

She still hadn't been able to wash her hair because of the wound. It was driving her nuts to feel it, equally dusty and greasy at the same time. She must look a sight, with her hair and the massive bruise down one side of her face, which still hurt to touch and if she smiled. A horrible thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Dylan, did they shave my hair?" She said putting her hand up to fiddle with her dressing. He sprang forward and slapped her hand away.

"Of course they did. They had to cut your skull open!" Sam looked at him horrified.

"Not much though, really, I've seen it. You'll be able to cover it easily. I'm sure it'll grow back quickly." Dylan said so rapidly Sam almost didn't catch it, correctly guessing it was the hair damage and not the craniotomy she was so horrified by.

She groaned, dropping her head into her hands. If Dylan was this nervous about it, it must be really bad.

"Do you need anything else?" Dylan asked her, waving his hand in front of her eyes to get her attention.

"No, I think the moustache pyjamas just about covered it." She said deadpan and Dylan smirked.

"Is your father coming today?" He asked, attempting a casual manner.

"No. He had some things to do. He said he'd come back on Sunday if I was still here." She grimaced "Dylan, when I was talking to my father yesterday, I think you got the wrong impression. You don't have to worry. They won't send me back. I'm home for good." She said, still unsure how she felt about that. Her life had changed massively; she had lost two friends, suffered a major injury and had given up her job. Sam didn't know how she was supposed to process this all at once, especially when she didn't remember the events that precipitated it.

"I see." Dylan said, but it wasn't the happy reaction she had anticipated. He seemed very guarded, and Sam attempted to rationalise why.

"You don't want me to go back surely?" She said incredulously.

"Of course not. But I know how much you loved your job. I would never have wished for you to lose it like this." He said honestly.

Sam realised he thought she had been told she couldn't return to active duty. Perhaps it would be better if he thought that. He didn't have to know she had quit for his sake. It would only become yet another source of tension in their relationship. He would think she resented him for it, and he would be wrong. Once she had made a decision she let it go. There was only one occasion she hadn't and that was over their divorce.

"That's the way it goes grumpy. I'm lucky I'm here at all. I'll get a different job, maybe at Holby permanently. Mr Jordan said he would have me back before I left. Listen Dylan, can you find out how Sergeant Jones is for me? You said he was here in the hospital." She tried to move on from the subject, not wanting to dwell on her uncertainty.

He got up and left and she covered her face with her hands. She wondered if it was normal to feel this empty. Everything seemed dulled, like it was missing a bit of colour. She felt odd, like she could remember emotions, like happiness and normality but she couldn't imagine ever feeling them again. She tried to think of her happiest memories, her wedding day, but even now, when they should mean more than ever as she was back with Dylan, they failed to evoke any major emotion. There must be something wrong with her. Brain injuries could cause personality changes, depression, mood swings and uncharacteristic behaviour. What if this was only the beginning and she had survived only to become someone else? What if Dylan had waited all this time for her to make him her sole priority and when it finally happened the old Sam was gone for good?

She had no idea what had even caused this. What the hell had gone on out in Afghan? Memory loss from head trauma was a very real possibility but it was obviously all still there, trapped in her mind, the little flashback she had while talking with her father yesterday was proof of that. Maybe Sergeant Jones could clear it up.

* * *

_Plymouth 2009_

_Dylan's day had been appalling. It had been a child protection case that had gone horribly wrong and that had culminated with the child being admitted to Plymouth E.D. with injuries that had been horrific to see, let alone treat or consider the pain of the child that had endured them. They had done all they could, but the little girl had died after an hour of them working desperately to stabilise her. The paramedics and police who had found her had all been offered counselling, as had the E.D. staff but Dylan wasn't much of a sharer and he just wanted to go home. He had got a Chinese on the way but by the time he had got home he had lost his appetite for it. He put on some mindless rubbish on the TV and started to work his way slowly through a bottle of whisky. He called Sam, but she must be working as her phone went straight to voicemail._

_Children were the worst patients to lose. They had their own personality and quirks but they were innocent and so full of potential. They had not done anything to deserve their illness or injuries and they could still become anyone, from the scientist who cured cancer to the physicist who solved the mysteries of the universe. To think all this was laid out in front of them and some complete worthless excuse for a human being could take it away was unimaginable for Dylan. He didn't understand how people could even hurt children, who they were supposed to be biologically programmed to protect. It was days like this he wondered why he bothered, because there was obviously something fundamentally wrong with the world and it was beyond his ability to fix. _

_The first time he had watched a child die, as a teenager in his childhood home, he had decided then and there to become a doctor because he had hated with all his heart the helpless feeling as she slipped away from him. Perhaps every child since reminded him of it. He shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought. Whatever the reason was, he poured himself another glass and tried to forget it._

* * *

_Paderborn, Germany, 2009_

"_Lieutenant Nicholls, good. Sit down please." Sam took a seat in front of her commanding officer, wondering what this was about._

"_I understand your next placement is to be a surgical rotation in Plymouth?" Her commanding officer said looking through some paperwork._

"_Yes sir. I'm looking forward to it." Sam said. _

"_You know of course after that you'll be posted to Afghanistan for six months?"_

"_Yes sir." Sam could hardly forget. She was quite excited about it, although she was not looking forward to being parted from Dylan again._

"_Is there any particular reason you requested Plymouth?"_

"_My husband lives there. I wanted to have a chance to spend some time with him before I go to Afghanistan."_

"_Does he have a job that depends on being in Plymouth?" The man looked at her speculatively._

"_He's a registrar in Emergency Medicine."_

"_A placement has come up for an F2. Kings College Hospital London Major Trauma team. It's a brilliant opportunity for a doctor with your interests. It will have to be the next rotation of course."_

"_I see." Sam said, heart sinking. She couldn't tell Dylan she wasn't coming back after all. He would never forgive her and the fact she was going to Afghan in less than four months would make it even worse._

"_It's an amazing opportunity, but I would like to continue with my arranged placement sir."_

"_Sure? After all your husbands a doctor, he can work anywhere, especially if it's only for three months. This would really help your career Lieutenant."_

"_It would be unfair of me to ask him to move. He's worked there since he graduated medical school. Thank you sir, I'm going to have to decline." _

_Her commanding officer nodded. "Word of advice, Lieutenant. You've just turned down a major career opportunity for your husband. I would give whether he would do the same some serious thought. You're dismissed."_

_Sam left there feeling a bit sick, hoping she hadn't just made a massive mistake. She wouldn't tell Dylan about this. Either he would say she was being ridiculous and she should have gone for it which would be terrible, or he would say thank goodness you turned it down and Sam really didn't want to hear either response._

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

Dylan wandered along to the nurses' station, trying to come to terms with what Sam had just told him. He had never even considered she would want to return to Afghanistan before yesterday, had never even thought it was a possibility. To hear she still wanted to go back was devastating. He felt awful because he knew Sam had loved her job and for her not to have a choice in leaving it would be difficult for her to bear, but he was having difficulty not jumping for joy at the news. He would never have to go through anything like this ever again, well hopefully not, considering Sam's penchant for danger. If she decided to replace her adrenaline filled job with a motorbike or something equally as suicidal she would be in deep trouble. The army had always seemed like the other partner in their marriage, a constant obstacle loved by Sam and loathed by Dylan, even as he respected the work they did. To hear it was going to be removed from their lives made a massive difference.

He spotted Sam's primary nurse and got her attention. "Excuse me, my wife was wondering about the other soldier who was injured at the same time as her. Can you find out how he's doing for her?"

The nurse nodded at the familiar request. "I'll let his family know you're asking after him."

"Thank you." Dylan said and took a deep breath before going back into Sam.

It was late evening and Dylan was just about think about saying goodbye to Sam and going back to his hotel for the night when a short stocky nurse in an RAF uniform came to Sam's bedside.

"Hello, I'm one of the nurses looking after Sergeant Jones. His family have agreed for me to update you on his condition and for you to see him, if you'd like? He stood at the edge of Sam's bed and had obviously been told of her condition as he spoke extremely loudly. Sam leapt off the bed instantly and Dylan had to steady her as dizziness overcame her at the rapid movement.

Dylan gave her a chastising look and she sat back down carefully, probably waiting for the world to stop spinning.

"How is he?" Dylan asked, noting that the nurses NHS name tag said he worked in critical care.

"Sergeant Jones suffered significant injuries in the incident you were both involved in. He has had a double amputation of both his legs. He also had a head injury and shrapnel damage to his back. He is being kept sedated because of the pain but he is making progress. You'll be able to see him if you want. His wife and son are with him at the moment."

Dylan watched Sam's face at the list of her colleague's injuries. She kept her expression controlled but couldn't disguise the growing pallor of her face.

"I want to see him." She said firmly.

"I'll go with her." He said to the nurse, making it clear there was to be no argument on that point.

The nurse nodded. "I'll get a wheel chair for you."

"I don't need…" Sam started but trailed off at the look Dylan was giving her. After that dizzy spell earlier she wouldn't be going for a stroll and she must have read that in his expression.

He pushed her, following the nurse to critical care. It was another shared room like the one Sam had been in. There were two men, one a teenager, one a man around the same age as Dylan in the beds and Dylan followed the nurse to the one where a woman in her mid thirties and a teenage boy were sitting next to the bed.

They nodded to Sam and Dylan.

"I'm Sam and this is my husband Dylan." Sam jumped straight in.

"You're Major Nicholls, the doctor?" the woman said. Sam nodded.

"Were you with him then?" The boy asked of Sam quickly, cutting short the introductions.

Sam was silent for longer than was polite and the boy stared at her. Dylan moved around the wheelchair so he could see her face and saw her eyes were fixed blankly on her colleagues face.

"The explosion damaged her hearing." He said to the boy who was looking at her like she was crazy.

"Oh." He relaxed. "Does she know what happened?" He addressed Dylan and this seemed to catch the wife's attention again too.

"Hannah isn't it?" Sam suddenly said and the soldier's wife nodded and gave a bit of a choked laugh. "He talked about me then?"

Sam smiled. "Of course he did. You and Rhys. He missed you like mad." Rhys looked at the floor, struggling to control his emotions.

"What happened Major Nicholls? No one else will tell us." Hannah asked.

"That's because the only people alive who know are Ryan and I. I can't tell you everything; I had a head injury that makes it difficult to remember." Rhys gave a frustrated sigh.

"But I do remember that your dad tried to shield me as the bomb went off. He threw himself at me. He saved my life." Sam choked as she said this and Dylan thought for a moment she was having trouble breathing, but she controlled herself and the catch in her breathing went away.

"How's he doing?"

"Really well considering." Hannah said wiping away the tears as quickly as they were falling.

Dylan felt a surprising amount of sympathy for her that he never usually felt for a patient's relatives. He supposed this was different, coming so soon after his own experience as a relative in this situation and seeing her in a way in which he had no role to play and nothing to distract him from her distress.

"When he woke up he was really upset about Johnny. He was glad about you though. He said you were alright." Hannah said wryly.

Sam smiled. "Tell him I think he's not so bad himself. He was really close to Johnny. I think he reminded him of you, Rhys. So it's a good job he has you."

Rhys nodded.

"He's a stubborn old bugger." Hannah said. "He'll be okay."

"Of course he will." Sam said reassuringly.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_It was a warm day in Plymouth and Dylan had been run off his feet doing a double shift. The only thing that was getting him through was it was only two days before Sam was due back. He couldn't wait. Dylan signed off on Mo Hassan's elderly post MI woman who was being transferred to CCU and moved on to find Ebony Shah just starting to see a young man who had a police escort. The police were letting her lead but the angry man was clearly walking all over her. Dylan gestured to the closest police officer who walked over to him. _

"_Why is he handcuffed officer?"_

"_He was at a protest outside Devonport Naval Base. Them lot and the EDL were having a bit of a tussle. This genius tried to bottle a skinhead and was unprepared when he returned the favour." The policewoman sounded distinctly unsympathetic._

"_Shame." Dylan said dryly and the policewoman grinned at him. _

"_Does he prevent a risk to my doctor?" The policewoman looked over at Ebony in her hijab._

"_Er… she doesn't look like his... er…type." She said clumsily and Dylan caught her meaning. _

"_Yes well, tell him to improve his manners or he'll be dealing with me." He walked off onto other things. _

_He was back at the desk ten minutes later when he sensed the odd feeling of being watched. He looked up and saw some staff were watching him, though their expressions weren't anything sinister. He felt that there was someone standing close behind him and turned, only to be jumped by a blonde haired blur in an army uniform. He staggered for a minute, shocked before his brain caught up and registered that it was Sam and she was back early and she was hugging him and he should probably hug her back. He wrapped his arms around her and practically picked her up off the ground. He pulled back. _

"_Lieutenant Nicholls." He said, pretending disinterest, even knowing she could probably still feel his heart pounding against her chest._

"_Captain Nicholls." She corrected gleefully. She leant in so only he could hear. "Hello Grumpy!"_

_He grabbed her hand and went to lead her to the staffroom. He completely forgot about Ebony's glassing in cubicle 2. As he passed with Sam the man kicked off, yelling after her._

"_Murderer! Murderer!" He shouted._

_Sam stopped dead and Dylan cursed internally._

"_Excuse me?" She said turning to the patient and appearing calm, though Dylan could see she was furious. _

"_Sorry love. He's under arrest." The policewoman said, stepping between Sam and the man. _

"_It's her who should be under arrest, her and the rest of her murdering…AHHH!" The man suddenly screamed and looked back at Ebony who had pulled out a particularly big piece of glass._

"_Sorry, did that hurt? Perhaps you should keep your attention on me to make sure I don't do it again." She said it in her typical quiet manner but there was an edge of steel in her tone which made the man sit down quietly and Dylan grinned with pride even as he dragged Sam away._

"_What the hell was that?" Sam said as Dylan pulled her into the empty staffroom._

"_That was my youngest F1 finally understanding that she can handle situations on her own." He said still smiling. "There was an ignorant idiot there as well obviously." He said hastily as Sam looked annoyed. _

"_How did you get out early?" He said and Sam gave him a look. _

"_It's not prison Dylan; I didn't have to dig a tunnel! It was a cock up about the flight that's all. I've come straight from a meeting with the boss and I didn't have my keys. I thought I would surprise you."_

_He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into a passionate kiss. "Well done, consider me surprised, Captain." _

"_When do you get off?" Sam asked _

"_Er…" Dylan said blankly, sidetracked._

_Sam smirked. "Off shift Dylan. Down boy!"_

"_Give me an hour. Can you amuse yourself until then?"_

"_Maybe." She teased. "And then we can go home, get a Chinese, and have an early night?"_

"_**You** want a Chinese?" Dylan asked, wondering if his Sam had been replaced._

"_Yes. I had an awful German Chinese in Paderborn. It wasn't greasy enough, it was completely weird but I've been fancying a proper British one for two months. You've obviously been doing okay on the food front. I think you've lost weight actually." Sam smiled at him and Dylan decided not to mention that it had been more to do with the fact he'd replaced his evening meal with alcohol than any great effort with his diet._

_Dylan heard raised voices outside the staffroom. "I have to go. Well done by the way, Sam. An hour, I promise!" He went to leave the room before changing his mind and kissing her again before closing the door to the staffroom, trying to control his probably sickeningly love struck expression before he met his colleagues once more.._

_He noticed the raised voices were coming from cubicles, where more police had gathered. He spotted a couple of men who looked like the St Georges flag had vomited all over them and sighed. Now they had both sides of a minor race riot here. Lovely._

_He went back to where Dr Shah was finishing up her patient who was still behaving himself. She was giving him a tetanus shot and as Dylan approached she gave him the notes and allowed him to inspect her handiwork._

"_Excellent work Dr Shah." He said honestly. The police were watching him and the patient as if he was going to make trouble._

"_Where's your friend then? Gone to hide?" The patient said belligerently._

"_The woman you so eloquently yelled at is a doctor and is more likely to be saving Muslim lives than ending them. Even so, this is Britain and she wears a British Army uniform. As you avail yourself of the NHS perhaps you will reflect on how Britain is actually rather good. Dr Shah, you can discharge him into police custody now." Dylan said cuttingly._

"_Pleasure Dr Keogh." His F1 replied and Dylan walked off with a sense of achievement._

_After he had sorted everything out for his earlier departure he went looking for Ebony Shah._

"_You should be very pleased with how you coped with a difficult patient today, Ebony. He came in handcuffed with two big police officers and still shouting the odds but it was you he listened to in the end. You did it all on your own, just like I knew you could."_

"_You were the only one who thought I could. He just made me so angry. People will judge me because of him and we are so far apart."_

"_Well your anger didn't control your treatment of him. You'll find people difficult for the first few years of your career, Ebony, but a doctors career is long and people skills come with experience. It's confidence that makes all the difference. You're good with people; you just have to believe that."_

"_Thank you Dylan. I'll try."_

_He left her finally feeling a bit better about his group of trainees. She had been the only one he had seriously been worried about now he could relax._

"_Sam. Let's go home darling." He got his stuff out of his locker and grabbed one of her bags. She hoisted the other one smiling at him, taking his free hand in hers. _


	13. Chapter 13

The Damage We Do – Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Don't own the song So Good by B.o.B. but was listening to it and it just appeared in the story. Hope its not too jarring. Poor Sam doesn't know which way is up in this chapter…. Sorry.

This chapter is a bit of a monster but I failed miserably at trying to split it up. It has also been driving me mad all week and I need to post it as I don't think I will ever be happy with it.

Also major internet problems this week so I haven't yet responded to any reviews (sorry!) but did manage to catch the Casualty ep on iplayer. Don't know where the writers are going with Sam and Dylan but it seems like a majorly different direction to this story. (Noooo! Make them talk to each other!)

* * *

_Plymouth 2009,_

"_Come on Sam!" Dylan yelled impatiently into the bedroom as Sam continued to get ready, looking for various personal possessions in bags that she hadn't yet unpacked. _

"_Alright! Uncle Dylan needs to keep his knickers on, doesn't he Millie?" was the response and Millie looked around at the mention of her name._

_Dylan huffed, it had been Sam who suggested they take Millie to the park, but she was never ready on time, which was annoying because he knew she could do it, but she seemed to save all her punctuality for work and it seemed to leave none for her personal life._

_He spotted her phone on the table underneath a pile of notes. He picked it up just as Sam entered the room. "Have you seen my…" He passed it to her silently and he took a moment to admire the way she looked. She had straightened her long hair except for her fringe which she had plaited so it formed a sort of headband to keep her hair out of her face. Even in skinny jeans and t-shirt she managed to look amazing. She slipped the phone into her pocket and went straight to Millie who was delighted to see her as always. _

"_Do you have the camera?" She asked and Dylan held it up in a bored manner. She gave him a cheeky look. "I wasn't that long! Come on I haven't fed the ducks since I was about five and I'm excited!" _

_They collected the various bags and seats that came with taking a nine month old baby anywhere and walked down to the car park, having already agreed to take Sam's new car as he could admit his jeep wasn't exactly the most child friendly vehicle. It took the two of them a few minutes of squabbling to get the car seat fixed properly as Jess hadn't left them the instructions, probably because they were all in Japanese or something, instructions you actually needed always were._

_Sam went to get in the drivers seat and Dylan said "Can I drive? If you drive the way you ride a bike I feel I should mention I would like Millie to actually reach her first Birthday." _

_Sam looked at him in disbelief and then smiled. "You just want to drive my new car, grumpy."_

"_No. I'm just looking out for Millie's welfare. What's the acceleration like?" She laughed and they switched sides._

"_Millie, do you want to bet Uncle Dylan drives like a grandma?" She turned round in her seat to look at the baby as Dylan pulled out of the car park of their building._

"_Don't teach her to gamble. It's alright Millie; Auntie Sam has never even had a winning lottery ticket, you're sure to win."_

_Dylan had to admit, Sam's new car was very nice. It handled very well and it was very comfortable although Dylan doubted it would be as adaptable as his old jeep. It wasn't even four wheel drive. It ate up the distance quickly and although Dylan tried hard to keep to the speed limit he was slightly disappointed when they arrived at the park._

"_Enjoying yourself, Keogh?" Sam asked as she got out and went into the boot for the pushchair. He refrained from answering as it might incriminate him and got out and opened the door to check on Millie who was looking at the activity with interest. _

_It wasn't a particularly warm day, but it was fine and there were plenty of other people who seemed to have had the same idea. They managed the pushchair with much more ease than they had the car seat but predictably, Millie had more interest in being carried and they decided to indulge her for a while, Sam pushing the pushchair while Dylan carried her. Dylan let Sam lead as she was the one who knew the park best, it being on one of her favourite running routes. They passed lots of families and dog walkers, who Millie was particularly interested in as Jess didn't have a dog and Millie appeared to be intrigued by the small furry creatures that were just out of her reach._

_They found a good spot by the lake with a free bench and stopped, Dylan finally letting Millie down and keeping a death grip on her as she inspected the water's edge curiously. Sam went into his pocket for the camera and also produced the bread from where she had stashed it earlier. She snapped a picture of him and Millie and called Mille's name to get her attention. Dylan smiled self consciously at the camera, making a plan to steal it back as soon as he could. _

_He motioned to Sam to take Millie and watched as she pointed out the ducks to Millie, who seemed to be enjoying the new activity. Sam gave some bread to Millie, who was mystified and tried to eat it. Dylan took a few pictures as Sam mimed to Millie while trying not to laugh, what to do with the bread. She soon got the hang of it and soon they were surrounded by quacking ducks as Millie threw handfuls of bread into the lake. Millie loved the ducks and Dylan was sure if Sam hadn't had an equally strong grip on her as he had earlier she would have been in the lake head first._

_They were just getting to the end of the bread when a straggly grey dog came and started sniffing around the remains of the bag. Millie giggled delightedly and Dylan looked around to see if he could see who the dog belonged to. He spotted an elderly lady with her eyes fixed on the dog but she didn't seem to be in a hurry. The dog now had its nose in the bread bag and Dylan put down the camera and retrieved Millie from Sam, who was regarding the dog with amusement. Mille protested as she was removed from her new friend and tried to twist herself over Dylan's arm to reach down to pet it. _

_The elderly lady reached them and addressed Dylan. "I'm sorry if Dervla is being a bother. I did tell her not to wander off." Dylan could see Sam mouth 'Dervla' with astonishment behind her back. He tried not to react. _

"_It's fine. Is she okay with children?"_

"_Oh yes, she's very calm. She got on very well with my grandchildren before they moved. You can let the baby touch her if you'd like."_

_Dylan considered the dog and then crouched down and Millie babbled happily at finally achieving her goal, tangling her hand in the grey fur as the dog sat there calmly._

"_She's lovely, how old is she?" The old lady asked, cooing over Millie._

"_Nine months." Sam said absently, watching the dog carefully._

"_What's her name?" the old lady asked._

"_Millie." Dylan answered. _

"_Millie, that's nice. My granddaughter is called Molly. It's quite old fashioned isn't it? Is she named after anyone?"_

"_Yes, her late aunt who died in childhood. She was called Camilla." Dylan could feel Sam's eyes on him, startled at this new bit of information._

"_Yes Camilla is a bit much these days isn't it. Oh you have a camera! Would you like me to take a snap of the three of you? I always feel so sorry for the one behind the camera in family photos." She gave Dylan a wink. "I bet it's usually Dad missing from the photo, am I right?"_

"_Er…That's very kind of you." Dylan said, not wanting to reveal any more personal information to the random stranger he had just met, no matter how harmless she appeared. Sam crouched down on the other side of Millie and exchanged an amused look with him before smiling as the old lady took the photo, which Dylan realised would also contain her straggly little dog as well as his wife and his 'niece'._

_After they had returned from the park and dropped Millie back with Jess, Sam had gone through the pictures on her laptop, posting the cutest ones of Millie to Facebook so Jess could see them. Dylan sat down beside her at the table, quite liking how they had turned out, even the ones with him in. The best one was undoubtedly the one of Sam, Millie and him by the lake. Sam exclaimed with delight and quickly made it her background on her laptop._

_Dylan felt a little odd about the photograph. He loved it, but it was not sitting well with him that he had let the old lady believe he and Sam were Millie's parents. Millie had an amazing mother already, who had had such a lot to deal with already in her young life but still managed to be both mother and father to Millie. The knowledge that one day if the worst should happen Millie could be their responsibility and they would be left to take over as parents made him even more determined to make sure Jess received all the credit she was due for the way Millie was turning out. The photo made it seem to Dylan as if he had airbrushed Jess out of Millie's life and shown the traditional image of family life which Jess couldn't give her. He shook his head, he was reading too much into it, he knew._

"_She was so funny. She has your confused face, you know. When I gave her that bread and showed her what to do, she looked like the spitting image of you!" Sam said, oblivious to his thoughts._

"_I do not make a confused face." Dylan said, welcoming the distraction from his brooding._

"_Yes you do. I see it every time I try and explain how to cook a healthy meal."_

"_Oh like the one you make every time I remind you of the rules of the Highway Code, you mean?" He returned smartly._

"_Ha ha." She looked at the photo, seeming far away. "Dylan, you've never talked about Jess's sister before. What happened to her?" She turned to face him._

"_She died when Jess was two. She was eight." Dylan said, forcing himself to answer. After the way he had discovered how what happened to Sam's mother, he had no right to refuse her when she asked about this, which had shaped his entire life since._

"_Was she ill?" Sam asked sympathetically._

"_No. It was our fault." Dylan said shortly. _

_Sam looked shocked. "Is that why you don't talk to your family?"_

"_Yes." He got up and walked away but Sam followed him into the kitchen where he started to make tea. _

"_What happened?"_

_Dylan bowed his head and rested his palms on the kitchen counter._

"_How was it your fault Dylan?"_

* * *

_Ireland, 1988_

_Dylan groaned loudly. "It's not fair, why do I always get the awkward one?"_

"_Your brother has work to do; he won't pass those law school entrance exams with a study ethic like yours Dylan. You would do well to follow his example." At this Gray smirked behind their mothers back._

"_Isn't this what you have a nanny for?" Dylan said sulkily, this was not his idea of how his summer holiday from school would go._

"_Don't be smart. I gave her the afternoon off, her mother isn't well. So you look after Jessica and Gray will listen out for Camilla. Complain any more and you'll watch both of them, god knows Gray is more likely to use the time productively. And don't you dare disturb me, both of you. I have important work to do." Madeleine Keogh stalked out of the room and Dylan watched her go, feeling rebellious. He knew exactly what her 'work' would entail. One phone call to yell at someone and five gin and tonics. _

_Not for the first time he wished his father was here. He would have sorted out the problems with the firm. She had never drunk so much when he was alive. They had argued lots, more than Dylan knew was normal, but he had never doubted his parents loved each other even if their relationship wasn't perfect. Since his father had died his mother had been cold and distant, especially to him as he lacked Gray's ability to judge her moods. He didn't know what had possessed her to agree to have her brother-in law's children for a month while they went to Australia. He didn't really blame Millie for being a little madam either, he would be really annoyed if his parents had gone somewhere cool like Australia without taking him. He kicked the sole of his shoes on the floor and wandered up to the nursery to pick up Jessie. He'd take her down to the pond; she always liked to watch the ducks and frogs. Hopefully he could wear her out so he would have some time to listen to music. _

_It wasn't fair. Gray got to sit in his room doing whatever he wanted and he was stuck wracking his brain trying to figure out how to amuse a two year old not to mention the other more odious duties that came with looking after a child not yet toilet trained. His mother should be watching her if she felt the urge to give the staff time off at the drop of a hat. It wasn't Dylan's fault. He just wanted a bit of fun before his life became all about boring exams like Gray's. It was so boring too, he had read some of the books out of curiosity and the only thing he had achieved was a good night's sleep. It was rubbish having your whole life planned out by someone else. _

_Dylan Roderick Keogh was going to Cambridge (preferably Trinity like his father) to read Law and then he was going to join the family law firm. It was understood. Dylan wasn't a particularly shy teenager, he knew he had been blessed with the brains to do anything he liked, that was how he kept passing his school exams without putting any effort in whatsoever. He didn't have any fear he couldn't do it. He just wasn't sure he wanted to. But he had yet to find anything better, or worth fighting for, and it was sure to be a major fight if he deviated off the traditional Keogh path._

_Jessie located, plus her favourite bear, he swung her up and stopped outside the door to the room Camilla had been banished to._

"_Hello Millie. What are you doing?"_

"_Dylan. Let me out!" She banged at the door in frustration._

"_Sorry Munchkin. My mother took the key, you know that."_

"_She's such a witch. Serve her right if I climb down the drainpipe, she didn't lock the window. I'll run away and then she'll have to tell Mummy and Daddy she lost me and they'll have to come back!" The little girl said stroppily._

"_Don't bother Millie girl. You know she'll have forgotten she locked you in by dinner and I'll use the key in the kitchen to let you out. You couldn't run away without Jess anyway, you're her big sister. You're supposed to look after her."_

"_It's not fair! I'm so bored and I wanted to go swimming!" Millie wailed and Dylan definitely agreed._

"_So did I, but now I have no one to go with and I have to watch Jessie too. We could go tomorrow?"_

"_Promise? I can't go unless you or Gray take me."_

"_I promise munchkin."_

"_I hate her and I hate mummy and daddy for leaving me here. Grandma's not even here. It's only you, Jessie and Mickey who I actually like." This was not a ringing endorsement of the rest of the family as Mickey was the dog. _

"_I know." Usually the Keogh children loved coming here to their grandparents home in Ireland, the rambling house and private beach more than made up for being away from their friends for a few weeks and their grandparents spoiled them shamelessly especially their grandmother who had looked after both him and Gray when they were too young for school and their mother was too busy with work to be at home. Truth be told this house felt more like home to him than the London house did even without Grandma here._

_It felt odd that his mother was here instead of his grandparents, like she was intruding somehow on their normal lives. His grandmother was supposed to be looking after them but one of her friends was ill and she had gone to visit her for a week, leaving Dylan's mother with no choice but to drop everything and stay with her children. Dylan privately suspected that if it had just been him and Gray she would have just left them with the household staff to ensure they didn't starve and just phoned once a day, but Jessie and Millie were too little for her to get away with that, even with a full time nanny._

_Dylan picked up Jessie and left Camilla to her sulking, walking along the landings, taking a short cut down the backstairs and finally leaving the house through the French windows in the breakfast room. The day was warm but cloudy. It would have been appropriate weather for swimming as the Keogh children were used to the Irish climate and taking their opportunities as they came._

_He looked up at the window of the room Millie had been put in and seeing her there waved, coaxing Jessie to wave too. She didn't wave back and he shrugged and continued onto the pond with Jessie, putting her down and letting her toddle along on her own. They had almost reached the pond when Dylan heard an ear splitting scream. He knew at once that something was badly wrong. He scooped up Jessie and ran back towards the house where the scream had originated from. His heart pounded as he got closer to the building. Camilla's window was open and the creeping vines that had been covering the grey stone wall by the drainpipe had all been pulled away and hung in a ragged curtain flapping on the side of the house. As he got closer he could see the low wall that separated the flagstone terraced area from the grass and saw an image he would never forget. Millie lay there on her back on the flagstones, her leg and arm at an odd angle and blood slowly spreading from her head._

"_Mille!" He put Jessie down and rushed to her._

"_I'm sorry Dyl; I just wanted to go swimming." She cried, seeming afraid to move._

"_It's okay; I'm just going to get some help." Dylan said desperately looking towards the French doors, surely someone else would have heard that. Surely his mother was coming._

"_Don't leave me Dyl!" Millie tried to move her arm and cried out in pain._

"_I have to get Mum, you're hurt." Dylan tried to reason with her but the little girl was too scared._

_Gray burst out of the French doors, closely followed by Dylan's mother. "Good God. Millie!" She exclaimed, taking in the scene._

"_What do we do? Mummy, what do we do?" Dylan shot at his mother, panicking and out of his depth and looking to his mother to take over._

"_What did you do Millie?" She said quietly._

"_What do we do Mum?" Dylan repeated urgently. Camilla didn't have time for this._

"_I don't bloody know!" She looked up at the open window, swinging gently in the breeze and closed her eyes. "Shut up and let me think!"_

_Dylan looked between her and Gray._

"_We need an ambulance." Gray said, taking over and heading for the house to call the number._

"_No, wait." His mum caught Grays arm._

"_Gray, go!" Dylan yelled at his brother, unable to believe what he was seeing but knowing that Millie desperately needed help. His brother didn't move and seemed to be in a silent conversation with their mother._

"_Fine, I'll go." He said furiously._

"_No Dyl, please don't leave me!" He looked between his cousin and his mother and his older brother desperately trying to decide what to do. Jessie had started to cry and was tugging at his sleeve tired of being ignored._

"_I'm sorry Millie; I'm going to have to get help. I'll be straight back, I promise."_

"_No!" She sobbed. Dylan ran through the French doors through the breakfast room to the entrance hall where the nearest phone was located. He heard his mother yell something at Gray as he dialled and as he talked to the lady on the end of the phone he watched Gray run up the main staircase. He gave the lady everything he knew and put the phone down, sprinting back to the terrace._

_His mother was kneeling by Camilla, stroking her hair. Millie was crying, saying she wanted her mother. Dylan dropped to his knees beside her, not caring he was kneeling in her blood. He was shaking as he looked her over; he had never felt so helpless in his life. He was useless to her. He didn't have a clue how to help her._

"_Millie I'm back. Help is coming." He met his mother's eyes defiantly but she looked away quickly._

"_You left me." Camilla said quietly and Dylan's heart broke._

"_No, no, I came back. We're going to go swimming tomorrow, just you and me remember."_

_Millie didn't answer. She was so pale now, and the pool of blood Dylan was kneeling in covered a large area._

_Jessie gave a fractious cry and Dylan looked up to see Gray who had returned and was standing at the edge of the blood, holding Jessie and looking on with an ashen expression. When Dylan looked back Camilla wasn't breathing anymore and her eyes were shut. Dylan knew there was something you were supposed to do, some kind of medical thing to keep her breathing but he was only fourteen and he liked music and detective books and cricket and he had never learned or paid much attention to it and he didn't know.. He didn't know how to help her. Seconds turned into minutes and Dylan sat back on the ground, not even noticing the blood anymore. She was dead._

_He ignored the ambulance men arriving. One of them wrapped him in a blanket and led him over to the wall where he sat, watching blankly as they took his baby cousin away. They tried to shoo him away but he ignored them silently. At some point he must have stopped shaking as they ceased annoying him and went away._

_He heard his mother and Gray talking to the garda. No they didn't know why she had wanted to climb the drainpipe. Children were funny like that, always testing their limits. No the garda couldn't talk to Dylan; he had found her and was obviously in shock. _

_His mother had enough of the lawyer vibe that the garda left that alone._

_It was nearly dark before Dylan realised he was alone and it was freezing and he was still covered in her blood. It had dried by then and the clothes were sticking to his skin. He wandered into the bathroom and piled all the clothes into a neat pile, folding them automatically just like at school. It took four changes of the bath water before he was sure he had washed it all off. He pulled the plug and watched it drain, with a sense that this wasn't real and he would wake up in a moment. He sat on the edge of the bath wrapped in a towel staring at the floor. This wasn't a dream. He was violently sick into the toilet. The awful disconnected feeling hadn't gone away._

_He brushed his teeth calmly and went back to his room to find some clothes. Looking at the time he put his pyjamas on. Suddenly an awful thought crossed his mind. Jessie! He couldn't leave her to his mother and Gray, he realised that now. He ran along to the nursery and luckily she was there in bed safely asleep. Dylan curled up on Camilla's empty bed and watched her sleep. _

_Sometime in the night she woke up crying. Dylan got up sleepily and changed her, silently promising to never begrudge looking after her ever again. He took her back to Camilla's bed with him. She stretched out contentedly in his arms and fell back to sleep, happy one of her favourite people was with her. Dylan stayed awake and watched over her. He had failed Camilla but he wouldn't fail Jessie too. He would protect her from everything, including his family._

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Sam sat opposite him at the kitchen table, hands around a mug of tea long since gone cold._

"_They covered it up."_

"_Yes. As she was dying my darling brother was unlocking her door and taking her diary so there would be nothing to incriminate my mother." Sam had heard the word darling from Dylan many times before, it was his pet name for her, sometimes he used it sarcastically, but she had never heard it from him with the hatred he now infused into it. She shivered unconsciously._

"_What about her parents? If it had been my daughter…" Sam trailed off shaking her head._

"_Her father, my father's brother Alistair, worked for the family firm my mother runs. She could always outmatch him, that's how she gained control after my father died. Alistair and Lydia depended on her financially. They swallowed the party line and let it go."_

"_What about you? Did you let it go?" Sam tilted her head at him and Dylan was gratified to realise that Sam knew him well enough to know even at fourteen he had not just let it go._

"_I tried to tell the truth. I was informed by my mother and Millie's father that if I continued I would never see Jess again." Sam grimaced, understanding the decision he had to make._

"_I lived with my grandparents from then on. Jess's parent's had another child, a little boy, whom they were delighted with. Lydia was never the same. Jess had a tough childhood. I did the best I could but I didn't have any official responsibility for her." Dylan looked away and Sam reached out for his hand._

"_Poor Jess." Sam whispered. "It wasn't your fault you know."_

"_No? She told me exactly what she was going to do. I just didn't listen. If I had just let her out then, she'd still be alive." Dylan had never told anyone this before. If you had asked him even a year ago he would have sworn he would take it to his grave. _

"_All of Jess's problems, Camilla's death, it all came from us. We were all responsible. We tore their family apart. I'm one of the reasons Millie could end up not having a mother."_

_Sam shook her head angrily. "Dylan you were fourteen! No matter what you think, you didn't lock that door and you didn't tell her climbing down was a good idea. You didn't lie to the police. You did your best to protect Jess."_

"_Yes well look where that got her. A heroin habit by the time she was sixteen. I never stopped trying to help her but it didn't work. She's going to die because I…." Dylan was ashamed to find he was shedding real tears. He tried to get himself under control but something he had been buried for so long was out in the open and he couldn't stop his reaction. Sam's hand slipped out of his grasp and he brought both hands up to cover his face certain she would judge him now she knew everything._

_He heard her move from her seat at the table but instead of walking away she knelt next to him, placing her hands on his and gently pulling them back from his face. He was shocked to see tears rolling down her face too. She shook her head gently meeting his eyes with sympathy instead of judgement._

"_No darling. It was never your fault. Jess had a bad start in life but she's straightened herself out and you were the only one who was there for her throughout everything. She loves you so much." Sam told him honestly._

_Dylan pulled her close, thinking of his bright mischievous little cousin who would have been three years older than the age Sam was now. He remembered Camilla's face as she tried to sneak up behind him to dunk him in the water and how she had loved it when he and Gray lifted her up and swung her into the water. He would have loved to see who she would have grown to be. The sense that if he could change one small thing about that day that future would have come to pass had always tortured him, seeming just out of his grasp. Perhaps he could let her go now. _

"_My Grandmother was a doctor, you know. One of the rare women to train back in the forties. She was bright, like you. She had to give it up when she married. I told her about how helpless I felt when Millie was dying. She suggested I do something about it, so I did." He mumbled into her hair, trying to reassure her he was okay._

_Sam was silent for a long time._

"_When I was in that car with my mum, I knew straight away there was nothing anyone could do. I knew she was dead. When we got to the hospital, there was no one with me and my dad was out of the country. There was this junior doctor, Ross. He stayed with me all night so they didn't have to call social services. He was brilliant. I decided then." She pulled back and met his eyes and he held her gaze for a time before finally looking away. _

"_Some people just read the M section of their careers booklet you know." Dylan couldn't help saying._

"_Boring." Sam said wiping the tear tracks from his face gently and holding still as he did the same for her._

_Sam smiled. "Come on grumpy, there's a film on I want to see and it takes time to arrange you into just the right shape to snuggle up on."_

_Dylan rolled his eyes and submitted grudgingly paying next to no attention to the film and thinking about his family. He was curled up on the sofa with the woman who had become his family and was doing a better job of it than his real family ever had. Here at home in their little flat he would bet he was ten times happier than his mother with her successful law firm and massive empty house. Gray and his children were welcome to her._

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012

Sam went to wash up in the morning not having slept much. What she had remembered yesterday while seeing Ryan Jones, although only a tiny part of the picture, was swirling around, being repeated over and over again in her head. She kept going through it, trying to remember what came before and after but it was like there was a mental block.

The little she had slept had been light and uneasy and the memories from other incidents in Afghan had blurred together with her nightmares to make a horrifying tangle of images that she was having real trouble leaving behind. She had been desperate to see Ryan Jones because he was the only other person who had any idea what had happened and she had hoped he could help shift her out of this weird sense of disconnection she was feeling.

She had entered the room last night and said hello to Hannah Jones and then suddenly she had been somewhere else, Afghan in the same dust filled room she had been in before. There had been screaming, she thought she had been shouting something and there had been movement and noise close to her and then she had been met with Ryan Jones solid body smashing into her, then the explosion a fraction of a second later and then she had been back in the hospital room with his son and Dylan staring at her like she was crazy.

Maybe she was crazy, the way she kept going somewhere else. It was like having a dream except you couldn't control when the dream started and she wasn't asleep, it was her brain malfunctioning in some way. If this didn't stop soon, she wouldn't be able to go back to work. How could she when she could be in the middle of treating a patient and then be staring at wall in Afghan? She wasn't safe. If she could only remember what happened. She obviously knew, it was in there somewhere. Why was her brain only feeding her bits of the information?

Frustrated, she picked up her wash bag and threw it at the door. She heard the dull thud it made against the wood and realised she could hear it, her hearing must be improving further. She pulled herself together and picked it up carefully leaving the bathroom before they decided she had collapsed and tried to get the door open.

She felt restless, she was now used to the dull headache and she felt her dizziness was now at a level where she didn't feel like she was spinning while just sitting on her bed. She felt more like herself but still wrong somehow. King had seemed delighted with her progress during rounds yesterday and was sending her for another CT today, which Sam suspected might be a prelude to discharging her. She hoped so, she couldn't help feeling she was just taking up a bed, and there was nothing really wrong with her medically. She would just need basic wound care and monitoring, both of which could be done through outpatients.

When she got back to her bed there was an officer waiting for her, a military police officer to be exact.

"Major Nicholls?"

"Yes Sergeant?" She said.

"Sergeant Austin. Since you are currently indisposed I've been sent to get a verbal report from you."

Sam sat down on the bed, thanking whatever had possessed Dylan to buy her a simple t-shirt and sweatpants at the same time he had bought her pyjamas. If she had to face a colleague in I love moustaches pyjamas, he would have been in deep trouble.

"Fine. I had a head injury so I don't remember much. Not where we were, why we there or much of what happened."

"What do you remember Major?" The officer's tone was level and non-judgemental.

"A room. We were in a house or compound. It seemed familiar." Sam said realising as she said it that she recognised the room. She looked away from the soldier and stared out of the window, trying to get her head straight.

"I had been there before, for a meeting of tribal elders, in the western district of Lashkar Gah. I remember I heard screaming and the only other thing I remember is Sergeant Jones jumping towards me to protect me from the explosion. He saved my life." She said, the memories solidifying as she spoke.

"His injuries are consistent with that. You don't remember anything else, anything about the bomber? What about what happened to your other colleagues? Mrs Jones said you told her you and her husband were the only people alive who knew what happened. How did you know that if you remember so little?" he said it gently but Sam was shocked. Why **had** she said that? How did she know?

"I think I do remember what happened, but it's coming back in fragments. They had to cut a hole in my skull sergeant, it's a miracle I know my own name. Rest assured if I remember anything else I'll be in touch." Sam dismissed him, the feeling of frustration resurfacing again.

She endured the CT with barely contained irritation, feeling like everything and everyone was against her. Even the prospect of seeing Dylan failed to calm her down. Why had there been such an atmosphere between him and her dad a couple of days ago anyway and why had he stormed out the other day? He had seen her zone out yesterday too, what if he asked her about it? She felt sick at the thought of discussing what was happening to her with Dylan, whose middle name was definitely not tact. Perhaps she should call him and tell him not to come today; he probably needed to get back to work anyway. She didn't want to talk to anyone today if she was honest with herself. Her ward mates were annoying her and she had given one of them such as severe response to a question that the young soldier was now addressing her as ma'am.

She picked up a paper Dylan had left and had absently filled in half of the crossword before she realised what she had done. She put it and the pen down and examined her work. Her handwriting looked fine, just the same as always. It had felt natural, like it always had. She breathed a sigh of relief, ecstatic at having one worry removed, her bad mood shattered in an instant. The haematoma didn't seem to have left any lasting damage. She had been so lucky.

Dylan was met by a bright smile and a hug, which he received with a slightly bemused expression as though he had expected to find a different Sam today. Sam's mood further lifted when King and his team came round and said that she could be transferred to the care of a neurologist closer to her home.

He left a junior doctor with them to discuss discharge arrangements and Sam was amused to discover Dylan had completely left out the fact that they had separate places and given his address for her to return to. He looked at Sam as if waiting for her to argue but Sam had no wish to return to her boring, lonely little flat when she could be back with her husband to curl up with and a daft dog to look after her.

Dylan picked up the paper and looked at the crossword she had filled in. He smiled as he realised what it meant.

"Three down is Antipodean." He said simply and watched as she filled it in effortlessly.

* * *

Someone came to stand at the bottom of Sam's bed.

"Excuse me ma'am do you mind if we put some music on?" The young woman Sam had snapped at earlier was wearing an army t-shirt and sweat pants rolled up to reveal a large dressing at her knee and holding an iPod and docking station and Sam could see a couple of the other occupants of the bay watching with interest.

"I don't mind" She said.

The woman eagerly limped off and started getting the iPod ready. Dylan wrote something down and held it up to her and Sam was amused at his new way of making snarky comments privately. You might regret that if she turns out to be a Justin Bieber fan.

Sam laughed. She felt it was worth it as Dylan watched the proceedings with trepidation. He liked his moody indie bands or more classical music and the girl didn't look like a classical or indie type.

Sam was surprised she could hear the first few bars of the song clearly and then smiled as she realised she recognised the song. It was a Professor Green song. Dylan looked unimpressed at the rap music and stole the crossword back off her as she enjoyed the sensation of being able to hear the music.

When the next song started she exchanged a smile with the other occupants of her ward who all seemed to be enjoying it, except the girl in the last bed who had headphones in and was curled up under her covers. Sam uncrossed her legs and grabbed Dylan's hand and beckoned him to sit up on the bed with her. Dylan looked slightly bemused but sat next to her on the bed. It was another rap song, one that had been popular during the short time she had been in Afghan this time and she began miming the words complete with dance moves. The young soldier opposite her caught on and began doing the same, laughing.

Dylan regarded her sceptically but his expression cleared quickly. "No trouble hearing that?"

"Nope." She said happily nudging him playfully.

"Listen." She told him grinning. He stared at her perplexed then amused as the song reached the chorus.

"Girl tell me how you feel  
What your fantasy  
I see us on a beach down in Mexico  
You can put your feet up  
Be my senorita  
We ain't gotta rush  
Just take it slow

You'll be in the high life  
Soaking up the sunlight  
Anything you want is yours  
I had you living life like you should  
You say you never had it so good  
You never had it so good"

A slow smile spread across his face. "Mexico?" He said in her ear. She turned her face to his, memories of their Mexican honeymoon flicking through her mind.

Sam felt a sudden sense of elation, like it had just hit her that she had survived and she was back here and back together with the most important person in her life. She had missed him so much, both in Afghan and before when they had been separated. She vowed to not do anything to mess it up ever again. The moment seemed to have that unreal quality as she realised how lucky she was. She tried to hold on to the feeling. The song finally ended and another started. "I'm so glad you came to camp that day." She pulled him close and whispered in his ear.

"Excuse me missy, this is a hospital, turn that thing down a bit!" A nurse came in and gave Sam and Dylan a raised eyebrow at their intimate pose on his way out. The young soldier exchanged an annoyed look with the young woman sitting in the bed nearest to her and turned the volume down reluctantly.

Sam found it much more difficult to hear the music now and was momentarily disheartened but Dylan distracted her.

"I nearly didn't. I nearly signed the papers instead." He confessed. "Zoe cornered me and informed me I was an idiot. Then Jess and I had a bit of a discussion about Carly, which turned out to be about you in the end, as all discussions I have with women in my life seem to be at the moment."

"I bet you're finding that infuriating." Sam teased.

He tilted his head to acknowledge that. "Home tomorrow. Dervla's missed you."

"Home." Sam repeated, feeling like a switch had been flicked in her head and once again unsure how to feel.

* * *

Sam awoke with a gasp, looking wildly around, not recognising her surroundings. As she got control of her breathing she realised she was still in the hospital, hopefully for the last night as she was going home in the morning. Even though that involved a long drive back to Holby in Dylan's dodgy jeep she didn't care. She felt a strong impulse to leave the hospital behind, hoping she could leave all the bad memories behind too.

She sat up in bed and reached for her jug of water on her side table. Her hands were still shaking as she poured the water and she couldn't stop the tears that were silently making their way down her face. Sam felt like someone had hollowed her out from the inside. She felt so exposed and raw. She wished Dylan was still here but he was probably fast asleep in his hotel room. She wished she had the courage to ring him. He would come, she knew he would. She felt so much better when he was here but she was frightened too, that she was relying on him too much and that the way she was feeling right now it was only a matter of time before she said the wrong thing and it shattered their fragile reconciliation into pieces.

She angrily swiped at the tears. She wasn't a crier, had never been particularly prone to tears. She had hated crying as a child, hated the feeling of everyone being able to tell how upset you were, like the tears were the physical evidence of her weakness. She had learned to swallow them, blink them back and stop them coming altogether but since she had woken up it seemed like her emotions weren't her own but were controlling her. She had thought she was just worried about her injuries, but things seemed to be looking up so why did she still feel like this? She felt so empty, so wrong. She had lost colleagues before, had escaped difficult situations before, so why did she suddenly feel like an emotional wreck. She had felt happy earlier when Dylan was here and now she was at rock bottom again. She lay down on her side and stared at the venetian blinds covering the window. Pull yourself together, its fine, she repeated to herself, unable to stop the tears coming once more.


	14. Chapter 14

The Damage We Do – Chapter 14

Thank you to all the people who have reviewed, signed or unsigned. It means a lot to know what people think. Especially thanks to Ficmouse, Callie Rawston, and whoever is leaving those amazing guest reviews! Also thank you to everyone who has added this story to their favourites list!

Abbreviation – CVA – Cerebrovascular Accident (Stroke)

Present – normal text

_Past – Italics_.

* * *

Queen Elizabeth Hospital, Birmingham, 2012

Sam sat dressed on her bed impatiently fiddling with a plastic bag full of her possessions, waiting for King's team to see her and to receive her medication so she could leave. She wanted to look in on Ryan too; she still hoped to talk to him at some point. They had told her she could leave around ten so she had translated that from NHS time into normal time as midday. Pharmacy always took ages for discharge medication.

Something jingled as she moved the bag and she looked through the plastic to see what it was. It was right at the bottom, in the separate laundry bag with all the clothes she had been wearing when she came into Bastion. They were covered in dried blood and dust, but they weren't what was jingling. Sam found her watch or what was left of her watch and sighed. As she moved it she caught sight of her id discs and brought them out swiftly. It was still there, attached to her id discs. Her wedding ring. She had got so used to wearing it around her neck that she hadn't even realised she was missing it. She detached it from the id discs and held it in her palm and stared at it suddenly feeling a rush of tangled emotion which was threatening to overwhelm her.

"What's that?" Dylan said, she hadn't heard him arrive. She met his eyes and his forehead creased in consternation. "What's wrong?"

She suddenly couldn't breathe and stared back at the ring, not answering him. He put his hand on her shoulder and she jumped, unable to stop herself. He pulled back watching her carefully.

"Sam?"

She pulled herself together and forced a smile, trying to cover her discomfort. "Hopefully King won't be too long now. I thought I had lost this." She slipped the ring back onto her finger.

"Did they take it off at Bastion?" Dylan asked, still looking at her like she was a diagnostic puzzle.

"Yes. My watch didn't survive the explosion though. They said I would be ready to go around ten."

"Ah, around midday then." Dylan said and Sam couldn't help smiling.

"Why are you smiling?" He asked confused.

She shook her head. "I can't wait to get out of here. The nurse has already been by to explain the deep breathing exercises and she gave me a handy leaflet on what I can expect after neurosurgery."

"Riveting, I'm sure." Dylan said dryly.

"She was just doing her job. For all she knows I could have skipped that lecture at med school."

"Did you? I seem to recall you not making the 8.30 lecture on some mornings." Dylan said, a wicked look on his face.

"That was mostly your fault, Keogh. Here, read the bit about sexual activity. It's put very delicately, don't you think?" She teased.

"You may resume sexual activity when you feel ready." Dylan read out. "It still sounds a bit like you're getting permission from the headmaster." He suddenly realised the girl in the bed next to Sam's was listening and gave the leaflet back hurriedly.

"I'll probably be transferred to one of the neurologists at Holby City. Omar or Professor Broughton isn't it?"

"Broughton left around the same time as you, moved to head the team at Leicester Royal Infirmary. There's a new girl but I haven't met her yet." Sam knew better than to ask her name. Dylan was genuinely worse with names than some dementia sufferers she had treated.

"I was hoping to see Ryan again before I go. I'd like to talk to him."

"No time like the present then. I'll go steal a wheelchair and inform your nurse I'm breaking you out."

Dylan came back with the wheelchair and they made their way to critical care. Sergeant Jones's bay was empty and Sam experienced a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach. Dylan spotted Rhys walking in the opposite direction with some tea.

"Rhys!" The teenager turned around and Sam could see the worry etched into his face.

"How's your dad? I was hoping to see him before I went home."

"They had to take him back into surgery. He has an infection from all the dirt and stuff that went into his wounds. They are having to take more of his leg off." Rhys said, clearly only just holding it together.

"Well when he wakes up tell him I was asking after him." Sam said without hesitation not wanting to add to the boy's worry.

Rhys nodded and continued on his way with the tea.

"I'm sorry." Dylan said.

"He'll be fine." Sam said, not wanting to assume the worst about her colleague. "If anyone can beat the odds it'll be him."

Dylan didn't reply and Sam returned to her ward feeling awful about her colleague. If she had been a religious person at that moment she would have prayed. As it was she could only hope that he would pull through.

She sat back on her bed, feeling even more restless than before. She noticed the patient in the bed furthest away from her had a visitor. The woman was angry about something and started shouting.

Suddenly Sam was somewhere else again, the dust filled room in Afghanistan. It looked like something bad had already happened there, it was in disarray. A young Afghani man had a strangle hold on Sarah and held a dead mans switch in his other hand. He was yelling at Sam in Arabic as she yelled at her team to get the hell out of there. She had her gun out but she couldn't get a clear shot and she was confused, the bomber wasn't detonating. What was he waiting for?

"Sam!" Dylan's voice was raised and made her jump. She met his eyes, feeling at that moment like he was seeing into her soul.

"What's going on?" He asked her straight out.

"Nothing." She said feigning ignorance. She looked away, avoiding his eyes.

"Rubbish." He paused, "Sam, I'm afraid you're having seizures."

"My CT and MRI were clear."

"We both know that doesn't mean anything. I'll have to talk to King" Dylan rose to walk off and Sam grabbed his arm quickly, stopping him. She was trapped, she couldn't avoid him telling her doctor if she didn't explain and god knows she didn't want to be in hospital anymore.

"I'm remembering things, that's all." She said annoyed at being backed into a corner.

"From Afghanistan? In what form do these memories appear? I was calling your name for a good five seconds before you came back to me."

"I am not having flashbacks." She said in a warning tone "They are just memories returning."

"How many have you had?" Dylan asked, using that careful tone she was becoming so used to. She hated it.

"Not many, I don't know. One or two. I know what you're thinking Dylan but I'm not some patient to be diagnosed, I'm your wife. And I don't have… I'm fine." Sam tried to control her anger at him, which had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. She just wanted to go home.

Her eyes found Lieutenant Colonel King walking towards her bed with a junior doctor trailing after him. She released Dylan's arm but she could still feel his gaze burning into her.

"Right then Major. We're chucking you out. I've transferred your care to a neurologist nearer your home for monitoring, but there shouldn't be any heavy lifting involved for her. Really she just needs to keep an eye on you. Do you know Sidoli at Holby City?" Dylan shifted uncomfortably next to her.

"No, she joined Holby after I left." Sam assumed this was the new consultant neurologist.

"Good. Less awkward. Now, Nancy has given you your advice sheet I see. Just waiting on your meds then, pharmacy is a bit backed up as per usual. Well, I've signed you off Major Nicholls, you're good to go."

"Thank you sir." She said.

"Yes, thank you." Dylan said, surprising her by shaking her doctors' hand seeming genuinely grateful. Sam felt a wave of affection for him; she wasn't giving him enough credit for how this past week had been for him. She vowed to try and be less of a problem for him. He shouldn't have to interrogate her for every bit of information. She must have worried him for him to ask her outright.

They finally retrieved her medication and escaped the hospital, Dylan insisting on wrapping Sam in a blanket for the journey back to Holby. He also handed her a pillow and told her to sleep. Sam tried to gauge whether her anti-emetic medication was strong enough to let her sleep in the rickety vehicle, but didn't have any choice in the end as her body had obviously had enough for one day and she dropped off effortlessly as they joined the M6.

She thankfully slept lightly and wasn't troubled by nightmares. She awoke as they came to a stop at the dock.

"Come on sleepyhead. I'm going to drop you off on the sofa and then I'm going over to your place to get you some clothes and I need to get Dervla back from Big Mac."

He grabbed her bag out of the back and opened her door for her. Sam found she was still tired, like the simple act of sleeping in a car had tired her out. She felt like a bit of a drama queen as she flopped down on the sofa as soon as they got onto Dylan's houseboat. She looked around curiously, seeing familiar possessions everywhere. This was the only time Dylan had ever lived on his own, before this he had lived with her and previous to that Jack and other students and his family. It was interesting to see a space that was exclusively his.

It was instantly surprising to Sam that the boat didn't sink under the weight of so many books. It had a very country feel to it, but was bigger than she had expected when she had run past it for curiosity's sake. It felt like a home to her, though it could do with a good clean and tidy in her opinion. There was a throw on the back of the sofa and Dylan placed it over her as she lay on there. He kissed her on the head and murmured. "I won't be long." She reached up and trailed her hand down his cheek, before she slipped once more into sleep.

She awoke to the smell of Chinese and Dylan clattering away in the kitchen, talking to Dervla.

She had no idea what he was saying and worried once more about her hearing. She was starting to think she had not been realistic when she had suggested she could ever return to active service. This level of hearing was not anywhere near her normal range before the explosion. She should be able to hear Dylan in the other room but instead all she could hear was that he was speaking but it was still indistinct.

She hoped it would improve further. If it didn't the resus environment, with the fast paced talk, machines beeping and patients might become very difficult for her to deal with. It was likely when she returned to her home base for her medical in four weeks she would have to declare the hearing damage as permanent. There was still room for improvement, she knew that, but the army couldn't keep paying her in the hope she would maybe get better. They would give her a medical discharge. That was what she wanted, right? She swallowed the fear this thought invoked in her and got up from the sofa and walked towards Dylan and Dervla in the kitchen. She soon wouldn't have to leave them ever again.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Dylan was just getting used to having Sam around again. Knowing she was in the same hospital but not working with him was odd but knowing he could turn a corner and see her, instead of having to wait for a time when they were both off work and free to phone made his day infinitely more interesting. He found himself looking up at every flash of blonde hair, each time disappointed it wasn't Sam. At night was the best, even if they weren't working the same shift, going home was now something he looked forward to instead of dreading. Their flat felt alive again, every little thing she touched and left around reminding him that she would be back soon and he wouldn't have to sleep alone that night. Being able to go to sleep wrapped around her again was bliss, even if he did have to get used to sleeping with the light on all over again._

_He had already called for one consult from ortho today and he had not been able to control his joy when he had realised they had sent Sam. At this rate his colleagues were going to think he had taken leave of his senses completely. He forced himself to remember that he had only been married three months and that it was normal to be a bit of a grinning idiot about it at first._

_Telling Sam about Jess's sister on the weekend had been awful but ultimately an amazing relief and he felt glad he had done it. When he married Sam he intended it to be forever and that he had finally made himself share that with her meant a weight was off his mind. It had been such a big part of him for so long that he had forgotten what it was like not to be keeping a part of himself hidden. Sam knew everything about him now and while that was intensely frightening, it was liberating at the same time. He had never trusted anyone else in his life this much._

_He was also glad he had told her before she had met his mother. He had successfully kept them apart for three years now, but his luck would run out eventually and the last thing he would have wanted was for her to be blindsided by his mother or Gray at some point. They were expert in picking at the most vulnerable parts of a person and Dylan had no illusions that they were unaware of his problems letting people in. His mother in particular had used that trick before with a previous girlfriend and afterwards their relationship had never been the same. _

_It was amazing how much difference it made to him that Sam was back, even if he couldn't quite forget the shadow of Afghanistan hanging over everything. He was sure she wouldn't leave the safety of the base out there, after all she was only an F2 but it still worried him. When she had been in Germany he had only missed her, but this time he was scared for her too and he tried to enjoy her while he had her, becoming an expert at avoiding the topic of her going away._

_The red trauma phone rang and James Healey answered it, the nurse relaying information about an eighty- five year old woman with a suspected CVA who had collapsed in the park. _

_Dylan went out to meet the ambulance and was surprised to be met by Dervla the dog as the paramedic opened the doors to the ambulance. _

"_Dervla" He said and the dog came to heel beside him perfectly. The paramedic glanced at him quickly as she started to unload the patient. _

"_I thought her name was May." She seemed confused._

"_Not the patient, the dog. I don't know the patients name." Dylan clarified._

_The paramedic broke out into a wide grin. "Of course not Dr Keogh. This is May Burrows. She's eighty-five and has a history of Angina. She is experiencing left side paralysis blurred vision and difficulty speaking. GCS 13 throughout, BP 180/90, sats are 95% on o2"_

_She continued to reel off information as they entered the E.D. Dylan got a better look at the patient and saw it was indeed the friendly elderly woman who had been talking to them in the park. _

"_Hello May, I'm Dr Keogh. Can you tell me what happened?"_

"_Dervla?" The old lady tried to say. At this Dylan looked down and found the scruffy dog was calmly trotting along beside him._

"_She's all present and correct. I'll get someone to watch her for you." He spotted one of his new F2's. _

"_Callum." He called and the young doctor rushed over. "Find someone to watch Dervla and come into resus with me."_

"_Dervla? Who?" The young man looked at the dog confused._

"_Dervla is the dog's name. Ask Jason to watch her for a minute and get in here." _

"_Right." The young man went to leave. "Callum!" Dylan yelled, exasperated. "Take the dog with you!" The F2 bent down sheepishly and reached for the dogs collar gingerly, pulling her gently along by his side in the direction of reception._

* * *

_As a suspected CVA patient, May was bumped to the top of the list for the CT scanner and Dylan, a young nurse and his F2 who had obviously succeeded on finding a dog sitter went with her. Dylan's heart sank as the black and white image of her brain appeared on the screen. _

"_Dr Jarvis, what does the scan show?"_

"_There is a definite haemorrhage there, Dr Keogh."_

"_Where exactly is there?" Dylan said, expecting better from an F2._

"_Uh…" The young doctor stalled and was saved by the nurse watching May signalling a problem. Dylan motioned to the radiographer to let her out and rushed into the room. May was becoming very agitated but seemed to calm down when she was out of the doughnut of the CT scanner and she saw a familiar face._

"_Dervla?" She asked indistinctly. _

"_She's fine; she's been looked after by a colleague." Dylan said, knowing it would be unlikely she would be leaving here anytime soon._

"_Don't worry now." The nurse said. "She'll be okay. Is there anyone we can call to pick her up?"_

_May shook her head weakly._

"_You have children don't you? You mentioned your granddaughter the other day. Can I call them for you?" the nurse looked startled and Dylan realised he had just actually volunteered to call a patients family. What was wrong with him?_

"_America" It sounded like she was saying. _

"_They live in America? I'm sure they would still like to know what is happening." Dylan said trying to keep the note of incredulity out of his voice._

"_Don't want to bother them." The old lady said and the nurse rubbed her arm._

"_I'm sure you won't be bothering them. I'm sure they'd want to know." She said comfortingly._

"_Let's get her back downstairs." Dylan said "Can you contact her relatives?" He asked the nurse who nodded. _

_When they arrived downstairs Sam was looking for him, falling into step alongside him as he walked besides May's bed. _

"_Can I take the spiral fracture in cubicle two?" _

"_Yes that's fine."_

"_She'll be going to surgery now. I'm scrubbing in." She said gleefully._

"_Yes well don't let the bright surgical lights dazzle you. This is where all the action is." Dylan said smugly. _

_Sam's gaze fell on the patient. "Hello. We've met haven't we?"_

"_This is May, Dervla's owner." Dylan said quickly, amazed at Sam's memory for faces._

"_Ah, Dervla. Where is she?" Sam asked jokingly._

"_Jason's got her." Dylan put in. _

"_Well I shall have to go see her then." She smiled down at the patient._

"_Where's Millie?" The patient asked, letting herself be distracted by Sam's friendly manner._

"_With her mother. We loved that photo you took of us by the way." Sam replied brightly and the patient looked confused._

"_Millie is my cousin's child, not our daughter" Dylan confessed._

"_Shame. Both good with her. Sure you'll make good parents." May said with difficulty, catching hold of Dylan's hand. Startled he looked at Sam involuntarily and was surprised to see her smiling at May as though she agreed. _

_The thought was very odd to Dylan. They had talked about children in a very abstract way, always with a preface of however long Sam had left in the army which made it seem very distant and quite divorced from reality. He had never really considered what kind of parent he would be, only assumed that he would be better than his mother. Sam had her own parental role model problems with her father and wicked stepmother but her mother had been quite normal from what he had gathered. Was she so sure she would make a good mother? Did she think he would be a good father? Dylan knew he was at that age when all his friends from school and med school were having children, hell, even Jack had a child, even though the less that was said about that mess the better. He shook his head. There was no point thinking about this at the moment. It would be more than four years before it could even be more than an idea. Perils of marrying a younger woman he supposed. _

* * *

_Dylan had found May a bed in ITU. He was just waiting for the phone call to say he could take her up. Her blood pressure was coming down and she was maintaining her breathing well so far but she would need careful monitoring and was still at significant risk._

"_Look after her? Until I'm better?" May asked him quietly. She could only be talking about Dervla._

_He silently considered it, unsure why he was even thinking about it. Every patient he had ever treated before, he would have had no trouble saying no. _

"_Of course we will." Dylan said, silently hoping Sam wasn't going to kill him for agreeing to take on the scruffy little dog. Sam had a checklist for the things she was looking for in a dog and Dervla was pretty much the opposite of all of it._

"_Would you like to see her before she goes?" Dylan said and May nodded, looking very stoic. He left and called Sam, whose shift had just ended. She turned up in the E.D and he led her into the porter's room where Dervla was lying quietly on a hospital blanket in the corner._

"_What am I doing here?" She asked him, looking around as if expecting someone to jump out at her._

"_I agreed to look after Dervla for the night." He presented it to her as a fait accompli, hoping it would reduce the conflict. _

_Sam regarded the dog, who put her head on her paws mournfully._

"_For the night? Are you sure that's a good idea? How is May doing?"_

"_I'm sending her up to ITU now." Dylan caught his wife around the waist and pulled her close as he had been dying to do all day. "She doesn't have anyone. She just wants to know her dog is looked after."_

_Sam sighed against his cheek. "All right. But if she starts howling in the middle of the night, or pees on the carpet, you're up, Dr Doolittle! I suppose you want me to take her home with me?"_

"_Yes. But first there's someone she needs to see."_

* * *

_Sam popped her head in and at Dylan's signal came into resus, wearing her outside clothes and leading Dervla on a lead made from tubigrip. She looked around furtively before walking up to the bed and patting the chair for Dervla to jump up on so May could see her. _

_Dylan was quite moved by the old lady and her dog. Her speech was slurred and took real effort but she still talked to the dog as if she was human. Dervla must have been her closest companion. With older patients like this seeing them at what was possibly the end of their life was hard, but it was awful seeing them alone, with no family to comfort them and reassure them they were loved and that their life had mattered to someone. At least May had someone who loved her, even if it was a scruffy grey dog. Dylan came to stand beside Sam and his hand found hers of its own accord both waiting patiently for May to say goodbye to Dervla._

* * *

Holby, 2012

Sam got into a routine quite quickly. Dylan went straight back to work, on day shifts but never stayed longer than his shift. She would get up and have breakfast with him in the morning and then take Dervla for a short walk. She was surprised how tired she still was and she took to having an afternoon nap after lunch, though she didn't admit it to Dylan. She started to clean the houseboat from top to bottom from sheer boredom and tried to get some reading done, although the fatigue mixed with the restlessness she was still feeling made for very poor concentration.

She was still not sleeping very well in the night, but having Dylan there made a massive difference. In hospital she had never been alone in reality but it had felt like she was on her own and she had spent a couple of awful nights willing the dawn to come. Here back in Holby she was still suffering from the nightmares which left her disturbed and upset but waking up next to Dylan was a lot different to waking up alone. He was used enough to her nightmares to not be alarmed when she reached out to him for comfort and knowing he was there made a huge difference to her even if going back to sleep after a nightmare was still beyond her at the moment.

She had an appointment with her new neurologist later today and Dylan had the day off which meant they could spend the rest of the day together. For some reason he had decided not to come with her to see her neurologist and said he was going to catch up with some paperwork instead.

Dylan checked her wound for her every day and said it was coming along nicely, even humouring her by holding up a mirror so she could see it. She had been horrified to see the damage to her hair, but comforted that it was already starting to grow back. She had finally been able to wash her hair which helped her feel more like a human being and the stitches would be taken out later in the week. Somehow she had difficulty really believing she had really had neurosurgery. The thought that someone had actually taken off a part of her skull and then merrily put it back again after they were done was very strange to her, even though she wouldn't have blinked twice at it having to be done to a patient. She hadn't quite believed it until she had seen the wound.

Sam still didn't feel right. It was like the trauma of her nightmares never quite left her, and where as she had suffered from nightmares for years and always been able to leave them behind in the daytime, now it suddenly wasn't that easy. It didn't help that she kept dwelling on her main nightmare subject. Since her last memory of the incident had resurfaced she was convinced there was something odd about what had happened. It was so maddening. She knew, it was all there in her head and yet she couldn't access it at all. She had even purposely watched Jeremy Kyle yesterday in the hope the shouting would set off a memory, but there was nothing gained except an appreciation for how bad family relationships could really get. Her restless and tiredness meant she was on a short fuse and try as she might Sam couldn't help going off at Dylan on a couple of occasions. She had the sense that he was walking on eggshells around her, which only added to her irritation both with him and with herself.

* * *

"Major Nicholls" The neurologist greeted her. She was a well dressed blonde in her late thirties with a noticeable Italian accent. She gestured over to the examination bed.

"Dr Sidoli." She nodded. "Sam is fine."

"Good, well Sam, I have looked over your records and you seem to be making good progress. You have been very lucky. Have you been experiencing any issues?" She looked at the wound and replaced the dressing expertly.

"Not really. I'm still experiencing the dizziness, headaches and fatigue, but nothing abnormal. My hearing still hasn't returned to normal, but my neurosurgeon put that down to explosion, not the brain injury."

"Yes, looking at your scans I would have to agree. We are still talking from a very limited timescale, Sam; major improvement is still a great possibility."

Sam nodded, giving an automatic smile. "Of course."

"Now your blood tests are all looking good. You have now stopped the Phenytoin and we shall watch you for any signs of seizure activity. I see you did not have any seizure episodes before or after surgery, which is always a good sign. You mentioned dizziness and headaches. Do you feel they are improving or staying the same?"

"Improving definitely. The fatigue is what is bothering me the most at the moment. I'm not really one to sit around usually. In fact I was wondering when I could expect to go back to work?"

"One step at a time, Sam. You are a doctor, yes? I understand from my registrar that you used to work here in the E.D.?"

"Yes before I returned to the army."

"Well, If you continue with the same level of progress I see no reason you should not return to work within the next six weeks, assuming your fatigue leaves you, I will certify you fit to practice then."

"Thank you Dr Sidoli."

"Any other questions?"

"How long before I am allowed to drive?" Sam was dying to know the answer to this question, she was already feeling a bit trapped by the fact her car was still parked outside her flat.

"You may have to undergo a driving assessment by an independent doctor but it will depend mostly on my recommendation. Let us see how things go in the next few weeks."

"Thank you."

Sam left the neurologists consulting room and stopped at the neurology administration office.

"Hello, I'd like to change my name on my patient records to my married name?" The secretary nodded.

"What's the present name?"

"Major Samantha Nicholls." She gave the woman the appointment letter with her name, date of birth and patient ID number on it.

"Okay and what would you like to change it to?"

"Dr Samantha Keogh." She said feeling like she was at last doing something positive to let go of her army life.

"Oh. You're the E.D. doctor's wife, the one who was injured in Afghanistan? We were all very sorry to hear that. The E.D., well the receptionist on the front desk, you know, Noel, he organised a collection for Help for Heroes in your honour. We were all very proud of you, you know." The secretary said in a friendly manner and Sam was reminded of just how much like small communities hospitals were. She smiled at the secretary and turned round to see her neurologist staring at her holding a patient file in a frozen manner.

"Don't tell me you are Dylan's wife?" She said, recovering herself a moment later and smiling in a calculating way Sam didn't appreciate.

"You've met him then?" she said cautiously wondering just how annoying Dylan could have been in the month she had been away to inspire such a shocked reaction to the information that someone had actually married him.

The older woman laughed. "Oh yes we have met once or twice. We were at med school at the same time. Remember me to him would you? I haven't seen him in years."

Sam relaxed at this. "I'll do that, thanks."

She took a deep breath and decided to go and find Dylan instead of making an escape discreetly as they had planned. It was probably best she see everyone in the E.D. and get the inevitable fussing over with. She had made some good friends in the E.D and she hoped they had not been too worried about her. She replaced the woolly beanie hat she was using to hide her dressing and went into the lift. She would rather be thought of as a bit odd for wearing a woolly hat in July than have everyone she met know she had recently had brain surgery.

The lift made it to the ground floor and Sam took a deep breath before the doors opened. They revealed the usual cacophony of sounds and Sam was comforted by the familiarity of the environment. It was just the same as always. Noel was trying to calm down a man twice his size that was waving a motorbike helmet around in an irate fashion.

The man walked off still looking annoyed as Sam reached the desk.

"Hello. Seen Dylan?"

"Sam! It's great to see you, how are you?" He came around the desk and hugged her.

"Still here, just with added headache." She said ruefully.

"Oi, any chance of you doing any work, not chatting up the ladies?" heckled the motorcyclist from his seat in the waiting area. Noel grimaced and Sam smiled.

"Nothing's changed I see." Noel chuckled at her comment and word seemed to spread as Sam was soon surrounded by her former colleagues, all exclaiming how good it was to see her. Their genuine excitement at seeing her said a lot to Sam of how worried they had been on her behalf.

In the middle of this Sam spotted Dylan approaching cautiously. He leant against the reception desk and Sam suddenly remembered the last time the rest of her colleagues had seen her Dylan and her had been separated. Had he even told them they were back together?

She was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by the attention when motorcycle bloke got up again. "Look, can one of you lot see me? You're obviously not busy."

"We should be going." Dylan took the opportunity to cut in and Sam nodded. "It was great to see you all."

"Likewise. Don't be a stranger." Tess put in.

"Don't worry; she'll be back on the team nights out in no time, eh Sam?" Big Mac said.

"Of course." They walked away from the reception and Sam felt Dylan's arm reach around her waist as he leaned in close. If the E.D. staff didn't know they were back together before, they definitely did now.

"What did the neurologist say?" He asked and Sam realised he was worried and had probably only just contained himself from dragging her off the moment he saw her.

"She said I'm doing very well. She said she knew you by the way?"

The tension didn't leave Dylan and Sam was intrigued.

"Oh?" He said, in a non-committal fashion.

"She said you went to med school together." He relaxed then and Sam was sure there was more to it, than he was letting on.

"Yes, Eleanora was in my year. She's good." Sam let her head rest on his shoulder, she was suddenly very tired.

"How are you doing?" He asked, changing the subject smoothly and Sam let him, too tired to enquire further.

"I have a confession to make." She said sheepishly.

"What?" Dylan pulled her closer instinctively.

"I've been having an afternoon nap." She admitted.

He laughed. "Past your bedtime is it? Well then lets get you home and to bed."

They got home and Sam walked into the bedroom, deciding she was too tired to be embarrassed about it. To her surprise Dylan joined her, shrugging off his jacket and shoes too. When she curled up on the bed fully clothed he joined her, wrapping himself around her comfortably.

"Tired grumpy?" She teased sleepily.

"No." He replied honestly and stroked her hair gently until she dropped off.

When she woke up she felt a lot better, and realised she must have overdone it, taking Dervla for a walk and seeing the neurologist and her former colleagues. Now though, she was feeling much better and they didn't need to be anywhere until the next day. Dylan had fallen asleep too and she kissed him to wake him up. He didn't open his eyes but kissed her lazily until her hands went for the buttons of his shirt. He opened his eyes and regarded her with interest.

"Don't start anything you don't intend to finish, sleeping beauty." He said warningly regarding her as if giving her an informal neurological assessment.

Sam smiled mischievously and continued and he didn't resist her.

* * *

Sam was awakened from her afternoon nap the next day by a knock at the front door. She opened the door, trying to straighten her hair up as she did so to find it was a courier with her belongings from Afghan.

She signed for it and took it into the living room, wondering what to do with it. Should she unpack it and put her things away or should she wait for Dylan to get back? They hadn't really discussed what to do with their living arrangements formally, he had just kind of told her she lived with him again and that was that. She decided she would just put her stuff away and see if he commented. She started to take her clothes out, happy to have it back. It had been packed tidily and carefully, the soldier on the other end probably conscious it could be either unpacked by a colleague or by their colleagues grieving family.

She pulled out her toiletry bag and looked into it and experienced a jolt of panic. Her packet of contraceptive pill was in there, at the same place she had left it nine days ago. She went to get a glass of water and took the next one before sitting down and dropping her head in her hands. How could she have been such an idiot? She had been taking it since she was sixteen after all. Hopefully it would be okay now she had started taking it again; she thought she was at the wrong place in her cycle to get pregnant. She supposed she had been distracted but she was still angry at herself. She was a doctor after all, she should be more careful. Dylan knew she was on the pill; he wouldn't have even given it a second thought. It was obviously useless if you didn't actually take it.

She sat back. Would it be so bad to discuss having baby with Dylan? They had always said they would wait until Sam's commitment to the army was terminated, and it was certainly terminated now, if not formalised yet. They couldn't start trying yet of course, there were still a lot of unresolved issues about their relationship which Sam was determined they would actually have a conversation about and not sweep under the carpet like before. Sam didn't even have a job, she was only eight days after neurosurgery and she was still feeling like she was still coming to terms with what happened if she was honest with herself. But it might be nice to talk about, for the future. It would be nice to have one bright spot they could look forward to.

* * *

After dinner that night, which Dylan and her had cooked together with the minimum amount of bickering they arranged themselves on the sofa to watch an Agatha Christie detective drama, Sam long since used to Dylan announcing who the murderer was halfway through the program.

"Your things came." Dylan said, nodding towards the backpack Sam had left in the corner of the room.

"I put the clothes away in the bedroom." She said and he made no further remark which led her to believe she now officially lived here as far as he was concerned. This gave her courage to raise the next issue.

"I was thinking." She started.

"Oh dear." Dylan retorted quickly.

She jabbed him with her elbow and tried to find a way to continue. He turned to face her, her continued silence telling him this was important.

"I'm leaving the army."

"I am aware." Dylan said, trying to prompt her in his own way.

"We said after I left the army we would think about children."

Dylan blinked at her, obviously not expecting this at all. "Sam you just went through an incredibly traumatic experience. You nearly died; you had neurosurgery for god's sake. You admitted to me you were having flashbacks! This is not something a baby can solve."

Sam was instantly hurt and reacted instinctively. "I don't want a baby to solve everything. I told you I wasn't having flashbacks, why don't you bloody listen? God knows why I thought having a child with you was a good idea."

She stalked off to the bedroom and slammed the door, standing against it and feeling instantly sick at what she had just said. She allowed herself to slide down and sat against the closed door. She couldn't even have a simple conversation with him, even though she knew Dylan well enough to realise he didn't always put things in the best way. He was right. A baby would be an awful idea right now.

"Sam?" Dylan's voice came cautiously from the other side of the closed door. Sam realised she was going to have to open it if he really wanted to talk as the closed door was more of a barrier between them than her damaged hearing could handle.

She took a deep breath and opened it to find Dylan standing there with a concerned expression.

"I'm sorry." She fell into his arms and he pulled her in tight, holding her securely. He was right. She would make an awful mother. It would be better if she didn't think about it again.

* * *

"What's up with him?" Jeff commented nodding to Dylan after finishing handover. "You'd think he'd be happy now that it looks like Sam is going to be okay."

Tess was silent for a moment. "Sometimes the worst scars are the ones we can't see."

"Are you talking about him or Sam?" Jeff said soberly.

"You noticed too? She seemed different, like her Sam-ness has gone out."

"Its early days for her. But I do know that knowing how to help someone who has gone through what Sam has is a minefield in itself. I'll talk to him."

"Good luck." Jeff said grimly and went off to meet Dixie who had gone to get the coffees.

* * *

Dr Keogh, can I have a word in private?" Dylan cursed internally; he hated to leave Sam for this long.

"Yes fine, quickly. I was supposed to be out of here ten minutes ago. Is there a problem?" He said, trying hard to be civil.

"I don't appreciate you taking your bad mood out on my nursing staff. They deserve to be talked to properly and you know it." Tess said sternly, reminding Dylan of his grandmother telling him off when he was naughty as a child.

"Fine, apologies, if that's all." He moved towards the door.

"No it isn't." He turned back towards her, annoyed. "Dylan, you know we are here for you, if you need to talk, or need advice about Sam."

"We're fine thank you." He said quickly, not really wanting to get into this at work.

"Well if you need us, you know where we are." Tess said gently, completely different from the way she had told him off a second before.

Dylan left the E.D. and got into his jeep. He sat there for a moment and then started the engine. It must be so obvious to someone like Tess. She was a master at managing people, at interpreting people's emotions. And Dylan, he didn't have a clue, he just went in there like a bull in a china shop and made things worse. It had never really been a problem between him and Sam before. They had both been rubbish at discussing feelings and things like that. But this experience had changed Sam somehow and she seemed to need something more and Dylan had no idea how to give her that.

Every time he felt out of his depth or frustrated, he thought of the alternative, walking behind her coffin and he thought of that, terrible, awful moment when he had first seen the notification officer and assumed the worst. She was here, and she was going through a tough time but he wasn't going anywhere. They were going to be okay, Sam and him. He just needed to keep trying.


	15. Chapter 15

The Damage We Do – Chapter 15

Well, ok, after seeing last weeks episode this fic is as AU as it can possibly be! Do I care? Nope! Hoping you don't either.

Thanks to the hearts break souls connect, and .11 and guest reviewer for the reviews, as always I really appreciate you taking the time to comment.

To the reviewer who said their dad actually works at LRI, haha! I used to live on Welford road so I thought I'd give Leicester a bit of a shout out. The lovely staff there sorted out many of my fellow students unexplained drunken injuries!

Please Review! (and as always I'm not a medical or army expert!)

* * *

Holby, 2012

Sam was bored yet again. She had enough of cleaning for one day and dinner didn't need her attention just yet. She had already started marinating some chicken in some ancient marinade that she had found in the back of the cupboard and she was at a loss for what to do. Dylan would be home soon and she refused to watch for him like an excited puppy, though she kept checking the time. She retrieved Dylan's laptop and decided to check her email, wondering just how long she could get away with using the computer before it gave her a headache.

She logged in and was surprised at the amount of messages she had accumulated. People she had not seen for years had sent their best wishes via email or facebook. She closed her email quickly, overwhelmed by the feeling of vulnerability. It seemed everyone she had ever met knew what had happened to her. It was nice to hear from them and it was lovely to know they cared but she hated that they knew so much about her troubles. It wasn't as if she knew much more about the incident than they did from what had been reported in the press.

She opened up a Google page instead, wondering what to do. Shopping maybe? A thought suddenly hit her. Maybe she should check on her new neurologist. Dylan had said she was good, but it was nice to know what areas she specialised in and what she had published lately. Sam reflected that little habit of hers probably came from Dylan and had probably earned her brownie points with seniors on a number of occasions as she easily referenced their previous work. People said flattery got you nowhere but taking the time to research could definitely help things along.

The results of the search were a bit patchy and she sighed and tried a pubmed search for medical publications instead. There she found a few articles on traumatic brain injury and especially paediatric brain injury. Dr Sidoli had been a good choice then, as Sam happened to know Dr Omar's area of interest was CVA in the geriatric patient. Her articles were nothing shockingly groundbreaking but she raised a couple of interesting questions and Sam felt satisfied and left the search. Idly she put Eleanora Sidoli and Dylan Keogh into the search engine on the off chance. She came up with the usual non specific items like graduation lists as they had been in the same year until she got to the end of the page.

They had apparently written an article together while still in medical school on ways to increase the usefulness of clinical placements. They had won an award from the medical school and there was a picture of them and a young Jack accepting a framed certificate. Sam stared at the photo, disconcerted. She didn't think she was imagining it; Dylan and Dr Sidoli looked very close.

She left the laptop and padded down the stairs into the living room, knowing exactly what she was looking for, she had only dusted it yesterday after all. Dylan had a box of photos, from back when people actually had photos developed not printed. She found the box and lifted the lid. He still printed out some photos; there was lots of Jess, Carly and Millie, occasionally with him and even Dervla in too. She went down a layer and found her face staring back at her from the box, days out, her in her uniform, on holiday, pictures of them with Millie and Dervla. She went down another layer and found Dylan's early career, mostly starring him and Jack and various colleagues through the years. Sam chuckled at the one of James Healey in a kilt. The older nurse probably would be mortified to know that still existed as he looked a more than a little worse for wear.

She found a graduation photo and smiled involuntarily at seeing Dylan looking so young. She sat back on her heels as she found what she was looking for, so far down in the box it could be labelled the Palaeolithic layer. Pictures of Dylan and Eleanora Sidoli. They had obviously been a couple at some point, the photo she was holding looked like it had been taken in a pub, Dr Sidoli was sitting next to Dylan and although their pose wasn't overly intimate, Sam spotted straight away Dylan was holding her hand, which was as good as a declaration of love in his world.

She frowned at the photograph, not liking what she saw. Dylan looked happy and she struggled to remember the last time she had seen him look that contented. She bowed her head. She felt so inadequate compared to the older woman. Dr Sidoli had clearly made him happy and all Sam could seem to do at the moment was hurt him. Maybe she should just leave now. That was what he had said to her, on the day the new E.D. opened, that he had always been miserable with her.

What if that was all she could ever give him now? She had killed an innocent person, her team had died and she couldn't seem to pull herself together. If she was always going to be like this he was better off without her.

Sitting there on the floor she forced herself to confront her deepest fear for the first time. What if she couldn't remember what happened in Afghanistan because it was her fault and her damaged brain just couldn't cope with the reality? She was blocking it out because if she was responsible for another innocent person's death, that was it, she couldn't come back from it again. She was done.

No. She drew in a sharp breath and slammed the photo back into the box like it had burned her and piled all the photos back in on top of it, burying it with all that had passed since. She felt like she had just ripped the scab off the gaping hole inside her and she was bleeding all the life and hope from within her. She carefully put the box back in place and went back up to the kitchen, leaning against the counter desperately trying to control her breathing as she tried not to panic.

She opened the cupboard with a bang and set out the wooden chopping board and knife to cut up the uncooked chicken pieces. She picked up the knife and cut the first piece of chicken. She diced the chicken quickly and then stopped and stared down at the silver of the blade, feeling like she would rather be anywhere else than here dealing with this.

"Sam." Dylan said as he walked in through the unlocked door. Sam gasped and dropped the knife instinctively, feeling guilty at where her thoughts had been heading. She stepped away from the chopping board and started washing her hands, avoiding his eyes, ignoring the knife still on the floor. He watched her for a moment, his eyes burning into her. He picked up the knife from the floor and placed it on the worktop. Sam felt frozen, like she had been caught doing something shameful.

"I'm very worried about you." He said finally, his eyes never leaving the knife. "I think you should see someone."

"Dylan. I would never ever hurt you like that." She reached out for his hand.

"I'm not worried about you hurting **me**." He said sharply and she flinched.

"That's not what I meant. Alright, I'll see someone." She said and he allowed her to grasp his hand and she sensed he was fighting to gain control of his emotions.

"I'm sorry." Sam said miserably, feeling like she had become someone else for a moment and she was coming back to herself. She would never do that, never. She would never do that to Dylan. What was the point of ending her pain when she would just make his a thousand times worse? He already blamed himself for Asta and Camilla. He didn't need to add her to the list too.

Sam lost her appetite after that but they cooked the food anyway, finding comfort in doing something normal. It was later, on the couch with House on the TV that Sam decided to bring up Dr Sidoli. She didn't know whether it was jealousy or curiosity or a bit of both, but she felt a strong compulsion to ask about her.

"I looked at some of the research Sidoli has published. Interesting."

Dylan kept his eyes fixed on the screen. "Good. I would have asked for Omar if I thought she wasn't up to it."

"How long did you two go out for?" Sam asked casually, as if two hours ago she hadn't been a quivering wreck over it.

"What?" Dylan turned to look at her, shocked. He blinked at her. "Four years." He finally answered reluctantly.

"How did you find out?" He asked without thinking.

Sam narrowed her eyes at him. "What, you were keeping this from me on purpose?"

He didn't answer instead examining her intently with his eyes. "Was this why you were upset earlier?"

"Of course not." Sam said quickly.

He gave her a long look before turning back to look at the TV, tension in his posture. Sam was confused at his behaviour. He was clearly furious but he still pulled her to him to snuggle up.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Sam sat staring at the dog. Why did she get the feeling she had now, through no fault of her own, accepted ownership of a dog? Dervla was stretched out in the middle of the living room half under the coffee table and appeared to be asleep. What the hell kind of a name was Dervla for a dog anyway? She sighed. Well at least she could get Dylan moving on the house issue now. This flat was much too small for a dog. There was no room to even throw a ball. She knew he didn't particularly like change which was one of the reasons she had moved in here instead of them getting a new place together after Jack had left Plymouth. _

_Sam knew he had to make sacrifices because of her commitment to the army and so she tried to be understanding of his idiosyncrasies but it was time for them to have their own space, properly. A garden to sunbathe in, to have barbecues and relax after a days work would be amazing. They both really needed an office and Sam wouldn't mind a combined kitchen dining room. It didn't have to be anything really fancy. It was just that Sam had rented since she had left her fathers home at eighteen and it would be amazing to have somewhere where she could safely know she would always have the right to come back to. Somewhere she could definitely call home without adding the qualification for now. _

_She awoke later to the sound of Dervla whining. Dylan was home and the dog obviously remembered him as she was greeting him enthusiastically as he tried to sneak through the living room and get to bed without waking her up._

"_Sorry." He said upon seeing her leaning on the door frame sleepily._

"_It's okay. Do you want something to eat?" She said and moved into the kitchen at his positive response, beginning to warm up the meal she had made earlier. _

_He followed her and the dog came too, sitting in the middle of the room between them._

"_How's May?" Sam asked, considering the dog again._

"_Not good. She won't be walking Dervla again for a while, that's for certain. What did you feed her by the way?"_

_Sam shrugged. "Same as I'm feeding you grumpy. I wasn't going shopping after a double shift. She approved. This is going to be a long term arrangement, isn't it?"_

"_Yes I think so. Is that alright?" Dylan asked cautiously "I know she's not what you wanted."_

_Sam smiled at him. "She chose us, didn't she?" She gestured at the photo of Dylan, Millie, Dervla and herself stuck on the fridge. "She's already in the family photo."_

_Dylan quirked a smile at her. "But we really do need to find a house now." _

_His smile disappeared, and then returned quickly. "Of course. I'll talk to an estate agent on Monday."_

* * *

Holby, 2012

Dylan knocked on the door to Eleanora's office, the anger he had felt last night still only barely contained, not helped by the mostly sleepless night and watching Sam going through another nightmare in the small hours of the morning.

"Dylan. What a pleasant surprise." Eleanora said sarcastically as he stalked into her office first thing in the morning as if he owned it.

"What did you say to my wife?" Dylan said unable to control his anger more than moderating his tone to keep the conversation private.

"Nothing out of turn." She said warily "She is very nice."

"You mentioned me in your little conversation?"

"I didn't know she was your wife. I mentioned we had met before. What are you getting at Dylan?" Eleanora stared at him, crossing her arms and Dylan stood close to her.

"Sam has a lot to deal with at the moment. She does not need a post mortem of my previous relationship from my ex, are we clear?"

"How dare you talk to me like this? She is my patient, I was professional." Eleanora stared him down, her Italian accent getting thicker as she spoke.

"As far as you are concerned she is a very vulnerable patient. If I find out you have been using her to get at me you will regret it." Dylan said firmly.

"To get at you? I see you are still as arrogant as ever." She said coldly. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in." Eleanora called sharply.

"Oh I'm sorry doctor. I didn't mean to interrupt." The admin assistant was holding some lab results and looking between them with interest.

"Dr Keogh was just leaving."

Dylan gave her a one last glare and left.

* * *

Sam watched her husband leave the neurologists office with a sinking feeling. He had been so preoccupied this morning he had forgotten she was supposed to come with him to have her stitches removed at outpatients. She had phoned a taxi and just made her appointment on time. She had felt quite hurt at first that he had forgotten her but she had rejected the feeling, deciding she was relying too much on Dylan anyway and it wouldn't hurt for her to do something for herself. The wound care nurse had given her a message that neurology had some forms for her to sign so she had come up straight after her appointment.

Sam couldn't imagine why Dylan had needed to come up here so early in a shift. She sighed, adding her signature to another form. She wasn't even fooling herself. She didn't really believe it was about work. Was she putting so much pressure on him that he was turning to someone else for comfort? That little display yesterday, what had she been thinking? That wasn't her at all. Sam hated being out of control and that was how she was feeling at the moment, like she didn't know her own reactions, couldn't even trust herself anymore. Dylan was right; she needed to speak to someone. Just speak though, she would not agree to any medication. Just because she was having a little trouble dealing with things, it didn't mean she needed that kind of help. Most of all she needed to remember. Frustrated, Sam gave the forms back to the admin assistant and left neurology by the main hospital entrance, not wanting to encounter Dylan or any of her colleagues.

Decision made, she called the number the army had given her and after an extremely uncomfortable phone triage interview she was given an appointment next week. Despite her natural wariness of talking about everything she felt she had done something positive to deal with her situation and was able to put all things Dylan and Sidoli related to the back of her mind.

* * *

Dylan reached home with mixed feelings, knowing he couldn't relax until he saw Sam was still safe and sound but also cognizant that she was always a firework waiting to go off these days. She wasn't in the kitchen so he took off his coat and went down the stairs to find her.

"Hello grumpy." She said from her spot on the sofa, Dervla at her feet.

"Hello darling, how have you been?"

"Okay. Forget something earlier?" She said, keeping her tone light. He looked at her blankly until he noticed the lack of a dressing on her head, and that she had arranged her hair to cover the area where her hair was shorter.

"Gosh, Sam, I'm so sorry!" He said, coming to her side instantly.

She laughed and he was relieved at her reaction.

"It's okay. I forgive you. It did me good to do something for myself for once."

"There's no excuse." Dylan said sheepishly. Sam looked a lot more like herself now the dressing was off and she had figured out how to cover her physical scars.

"I suppose I'll just have to think of a way you can make it up to me." She said playfully, leaning in to kiss him. He kissed her back, wondering how this version of his wife could be the same person who had been so distraught twenty four hours earlier.

* * *

Later that night Sam awoke from her nightmare and sat bolt upright. Dylan sat up with her too, alarmed, this was not what usually happened. She was breathing heavily.

"What is it?"

"The bomber. He was here." She said, reaching out to him as though checking he was okay.

"It's alright. He's not here. He's dead." Dylan said holding onto her, trying to anchor her in reality.

She turned away from him, throwing a practiced gaze around their bedroom before she looked back at him.

"Sorry." She said sounding embarrassed. "I called the number the army gave me. I'm speaking to someone next week." She offered, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them defensively.

"Good." Dylan said without thinking, that really was a weight off his mind. She looked away as if what he had said had hurt her.

"I just want you to feel better." She looked back at him like he had said the right thing and he breathed a mental sigh of relief. He opened his arms to her and she melted into him.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Sam looked outside. It had finally stopped raining and she was home from work while it was still light so it was perfect running weather. It was also time for Dervla's walk; she had been stuck inside all afternoon as Dylan was working two pm until two am. She could always take the dog with her. After all, dogs liked running, didn't they? Sam had never had a dog as a child because of the moving around they had done, she tried to wrack her brains for what Dylan had said about dogs when they had first discussed it. Dylan had a dog when he was a child but she was relatively clueless and it was not like they had planned this properly or anything. What kind of breed was she anyway? Sam knew certain breeds had certain characteristics, like Labradors were supposed to be smart and sheepdogs liked to herd things. What characteristics did Dervla have? So far she seemed quite docile and Sam remembered she was very good with Millie so maybe she was bred for an easy temperament._

_Sam was hoping she would fit into their lives easily. Responsibility for her would fall completely on Dylan when she was away and she hoped he would not find it too difficult. Sam was secretly glad they had acquired a dog this way. The friends she had that had gotten puppies with their partners had treated them like baby substitutes and as almost a dry run before they had a child and Sam would have died if she and Dylan had become like that, telling all their friends what darling little Fluffy had done last night. She shuddered at the thought and put on her trainers. She picked up Dervla's new lead and attached it to her collar and locked the flat door behind them. She warmed up a bit and then started running, keeping Dervla on the lead. The dog loped along easily beside her and Sam allowed herself to relax, enjoying the run. They made it to the park and Sam looked at the grey clouds circling with suspicion, proved right when big fat raindrops started falling from the sky. Dervla suddenly ran straight in front of her and stopped dead. Sam tried to avoid running into her and went flying over her, rolling over on the grass and letting go of her lead. _

_She sat up shaking her head to clear it and clutching at her arm where she had a long scrape where she had caught the concrete of the path. She stared at the dog who was just sitting there looking at her. She got up and brushed herself off, watching the dog warily. What had possessed her to do that? The rain got heavier and Dervla moved, slinking off to sit under a bench. Great, a dog that didn't like the rain. Sam didn't like the rain herself, but officer training had cured her of any consideration she had ever really shown the weather where running was concerned. _

"_Dervla, come." She called. The dog just sat there. "Dervla." She approached the dog carefully. She reached under the bench for her lead and pulled but the dog seemed to dig its heels in, becoming a dead weight on the lead and Sam knew if she pulled too hard on the lead at this angle she could hurt the dogs neck._

"_Dervla, we have to go home." The rain was really pouring now and it was going to be an uncomfortable walk home in wet clothes. She contemplated walking away and seeing if she would follow, but Sam was too conscious of the fact that Dervla was not really used to them yet and technically she didn't even belong to them. She couldn't go home without Dervla anyway, her husband would kill her._

"_Derv, please, I'm getting wet" Sam whined in exasperation, at a loss at what to do._

_The dog suddenly came out from under the bench and sat in front of her. _

"_Come on." The dog just stared at her._

"_I'll give you a biscuit when we get home." Sam said, hoping the dog had at least learned the word biscuit in its life. _

_Dervla got up and came to heel, the picture of innocence. Sam looked around to check no one had seen her talking to the dog and started walking, wondering what the hell had just happened._

* * *

Holby, 2012

Sam picked at her breakfast, a combination of the slight residual nausea from the surgery and horror over her nightmare meaning even the bland cereal was beyond her at the moment. She had seen the bomber, in their bedroom standing over Dylan. He had looked towards her and said something which she couldn't hear and then he had detonated his bomb. Sam couldn't put into words the devastation she had felt in that moment. That her mind had conjured up an image that horrific all on its own instead of replaying things she had really seen was new to her, and slightly worrying. If she was going to start inventing terrifying scenarios she might as well check herself in with the locked ward posse right now because she had seen enough awful things over her army and NHS career that her imagination didn't exactly need to work overtime.

A new face had appeared in her nightmares. The young man who had stared her down in that same room in Lashkar Gah was there now, images of his smirking face from that day blending with her memories of the girl's school bombing. Adeeb wasn't unusual in his enmity towards the coalition forces and he certainly hadn't been in that room on the day of the incident so Sam was unsure why she was thinking about him now.

She kissed Dylan goodbye automatically and she could tell he was disappointed with her lack of engagement considering the way she had been yesterday. Feeling guilty and restless again she decided she would take Dervla for a run today instead of a walk. All the leaflets said walking was the best thing, but Sam was a runner and enough was enough. She wanted to leave it all behind and while she was running she could do that. She pulled on her trainers and her running gear and saddled Dervla, who as usual showed a certain understated interest in going out. There was a park not far from the dock and Sam walked there briskly to warm up, not wanting to start straight away, cautious of what she had been through recently.

She let Dervla off the lead, unsure how the dog would run with her after all this time. They had no idea how old she actually was and for all Sam knew she could be about ninety in doggy years. She started gently and was soon into her stride, letting all her frustrations out. Her fitness had not declined noticeably in the time she had been out of action and she was sure it wouldn't take long to be back to her previous level of fitness. Sam ran along the wooded paths in the park and slowly became aware of a slight headache.

She stopped immediately, Dervla who had been running a bit ahead of her immediately circling around to regain proximity to her. She went to a nearby bench to sit down and catch her breath. She soon felt dizzy and nauseous again and she felt like an idiot. She sat on the bench, the world spinning miserably around her until she could bear it no longer and stumbled off to a bush to be sick. She returned and sat down on the bench again, feeling awful and now getting cold. Dervla was lying right in front of her as she always did when she sat anywhere as if she wanted Sam to have to work hard to walk away from her. Sam supposed it was because of the way she kept walking in and out of her life. Either that or she was trying really hard to trip her up out of revenge.

She put her head in her hands, hoping the dizziness and nausea would pass quickly. She didn't want to have to call Dylan for help. She would have to explain to him what she had done and she could do without a lecture right now. She had obviously overdone it and now she was paying the price. It had felt so good too, she had almost felt like herself again.

"Are you all right?" An elderly gent walking a little Jack Russell asked her as she sat with her head in her hands.

"I'm just a little sick. I'll be fine." She said embarrassed.

"Rough night eh?" He said companionably.

"Something like that." She said and he nodded and moved off.

She wondered what it said about her that she would rather he thought she was drunk that explain she had been injured in Afghanistan.

"Come on Derv. Time to go home." She said getting to her feet carefully. She couldn't stay here, it was starting to rain and the last thing her body needed was a challenge to its immune system. She went very slowly and even forgot to put Dervla back on her lead when she reached the edge of the park. Luckily Dervla seemed to be in a compliant mood and obediently maintained her position by her side all the way home. Sam got to the boat and after a brief stop at the kitchen to get some water and the bathroom to be sick again went straight to the sofa, hoping the rest would heal some of the damage she had done by her stupidity. She left the TV on in the background to keep her sleep from becoming too deep. She couldn't cope with another nightmare.

* * *

When she awoke Dylan was there and he looked concerned.

"Hello sleepyhead. How long have you been asleep?"

"Most of the day." She breathed in deeply and decided to come clean. "I did something stupid."

Dylan just looked at her waiting for her to explain.

"I tried to go for a run and I got really dizzy and there may have been some vomiting…" She trailed off and Dylan looked like he was mentally preparing his lecture, complete with PowerPoint presentation and handouts.

He opened his mouth and regarded her again. "Are you hungry?"

Sam groaned and covered her eyes with her hands. "Not really. I was like the exorcist earlier."

"Have you been drinking water?"

"Yes. I could eat some soup if we have any?" Dylan nodded and left her and Sam dropped off again. When he returned he had a steaming bowl of tomato soup, her favourite when she was ill.

"Sorry, I haven't even thought about dinner." He smiled.

"You mean my dinner isn't on the table ready for me? You make a shocking housewife, Dr Keogh." She looked at him blankly and he retrieved a letter from the coffee table.

"I opened this by mistake when I came in. I didn't look at the initial. You've changed your name back." He stated it simply, but Sam could tell how much it meant to him.

It was just a letter advising her of her next neurologist's appointment but Sam was glad she had taken the time to get her name change done straight away. She seemed to be giving him precious little reason to smile at the moment.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

"_And then, she wouldn't come home until I promised her a biscuit!" Sam said irately._

_Dylan watched his wife, trying valiantly to swallow the desire to laugh, knowing it would only get him into as much trouble as the dog was apparently in._

_He sat down on the bed and pulled back the dressing on her arm, checking that it was really just a scrape. It wasn't awful, but it certainly was not just a scrape and it must have been very awkward and painful to clean up herself. He replaced the dressing with a bit more sympathy and got up, kissing her head as he did so._

"_That's quite nasty." He said, starting to get undressed._

"_I don't think she likes me." Sam said, sounding more disheartened than angry now. "I've always wanted a dog."_

"_We've only had her a few days. I've been to see May. She's out of danger. She will have to move into a residential home."_

"_Will she be allowed to keep Dervla?" Sam frowned, getting up to plug her phone into the charger._

"_No, she wants us to keep her for the moment but she misses her and her son hasn't visited. Apparently it's a busy time at work." Dylan said unable to hide his disgust._

"_We should take Derv to see her." Sam said and Dylan nodded. "That will cheer her up." _

_He collapsed on the bed and Sam jumped on him, laughing wickedly. "It must be so awful not to have anyone who cares." She said, before leaning in to kiss him._

* * *

_The next night the weather was still awful and Dylan was still on the hated two 'til two shift. Sam had taken Dervla for a short walk then gone for her run, unhappy at the extra effort but not willing to risk another run from hell like yesterday. The dog had seemed to take to Dylan instantly but she still seemed very disinterested in Sam. Even when Sam knew she had been all alone for five hours she still didn't take much notice of Sam when she returned home, even to the extent of not eating the food she put out for her._

_Sam was a bit upset, but accepted there was nothing she could do about it and dropped into bed gratefully even knowing she would be woken up by Dylan getting home in a few hours. She was tired and dropped off quickly. _

_She startled awake sometime later, sure she was hearing Dylan getting in. She glanced at her phone on the bedside table and was confused. It was only midnight, far too early for Dylan. _

_She heard a whine and realised it was Dervla. The rain was bashing hard against the window and the wind was blowing hard too, swirling around outside. There was a sudden crash of thunder and Sam wrenched open the door to the darkened living room only to nearly fall over Dervla who was so close to the door she must have been trying to tunnel through the wood. The dog circled her anxiously and she was shaking. Sam realised instantly that she was afraid of the storm. _

"_Sssh Dervy, it's okay." The dog slipped past her into the dimly lit bedroom and Sam was so taken aback Dervla actually wanted to stay with her she let it go and closed the door to the living room again, accepting that she would get no sleep if she didn't comfort the dog in some way. The dog stood in front of the bed as if waiting for permission but that was a bridge too far for Sam and she told her to sit, shocked as Dervla actually did as she was told. Sam got back into bed and the dog collapsed onto the floor, stretching out and putting her head between her paws. Sam reached down and stroked her head and the dog let out a contented whine. She was unable to contain her smile and she settled down to sleep feeling a lot more optimistic about their houseguest._

* * *

_Dylan finally got home at three am, letting himself in and feeling a bit confused when he wasn't met by an excited dog. Where was Dervla? He surveyed the living room by the light of his mobile phone but he couldn't see her anywhere. He crept to their bedroom door and opened it, knowing he would no longer need his phone to see by as Sam would have left a bedside light on. He was met by the sight of his wife asleep with the dog lying on the floor by her side of the bed. Dervla was stretched out, but she raised her head at his entrance. Dylan couldn't help smiling and shed his clothes quickly, easing himself into bed smoothly. Sam turned over and reached out for him sleepily and Dylan allowed himself to enjoy the moment, despite his exhaustion. Sam didn't open her eyes but snuggled into him and he placed his head back on the pillow, happy it seemed like Sam and Dervla were getting on better. _

* * *

Holby, 2012

"I just did too much and I suffered as a result. I'm getting bored I'm afraid." Sam said stiffly.

"Yes well, if the sickness or headache return again I want you to contact me straight away. It may be you are overdoing it, but you could be doing yourself serious damage if your symptoms are getting worse not better." The neurologist chastised her and Sam felt a surge of annoyance that was disproportionate to what she was saying.

"I understand. I've learned my lesson." Sam said, trying to clamp down on her irritation.

There was a knock at the door.

"Sorry to disturb you Dr Sidoli, your son's school is on the line."

The neurologist looked annoyed. "Excuse me." Instead of leaving the room as Sam expected, she answered the phone in her office. Sam was curious but the older woman said hello but then began a torrent in Italian which explained why she had been so blasé about a patient hearing her conversation.

She put the phone down and returned to Sam, shaking her head. "He is only thirteen but is already a proper teenager. Drives me mad. Just like his father used to."

"I'm sorry." Sam said automatically.

The neurologist smiled coldly "Oh no he's not dead. Old med school boyfriend. Giancarlo hasn't seen him for years." She said with an edge of bitterness.

She paused, looking at Sam in a way that seemed speculative in some way. "Do you have any children with Dylan?" Sam shook her head, feeling suddenly sick, wondering what the woman was implying. She started doing mental maths in her head, trying to work out how long ago the older woman and Dylan had gone out. Dylan must have graduated med school around thirteen years ago, Sam realised with a sinking feeling.

"Well good luck, though I do not expect Dylan has changed much. Anyway I will see you again in a few weeks; admin will send you an appointment."

Sam nodded numbly, reeling. She felt so confused as she left and ducked into the nearest toilet, going into a stall, closing the door and sitting on the lid. Did Dr Sidoli just imply what Sam thought she did? Sam thought about just going down to the E.D. and asking him, but she dismissed the idea at once. She couldn't go down there like this, feeling sick and like she didn't know which way was up. She needed to think about things carefully. Dylan would have told her if he had a child, wouldn't he?

Sam splashed her face with water, examining her pale complexion in the mirror. She didn't know why she was having such a physical reaction to things these days. Ever since the explosion it was like she had become more sensitive to everything. She needed to snap out of it. Dylan didn't have a child, of course he didn't, he was a bit private, but even he would have mentioned a secret love child and he would never have abandoned a child like that, not after his experience with his cousins when he was younger.

She smiled a little that she had just used the phrase secret love child, even if it was just in her head. It was ridiculous and she was going to go home and leave it alone. She had enough problems to deal with at the moment without going looking for more.


	16. Chapter 16

The Damage We Do – Chapter 16

Sorry for the delay in this chapter. Gawping at the Olympics and the relatives coming to visit meant I was sadly distracted. I also kept adding to this until I had to hit myself on the back of the head and force myself to post it before I started yet another new scene.

Once again have been rubbish at responding to reviews but I thought it was more important to get the new chapter out as its already so late. Regardless they have warmed my little heart and I would like to give a big shout out to Ficmouse, Antonia, Abbey, BrookeMarie2604 and hearts break souls connect for their excellent reviews and feedback.

I apologise to any Irish people as I appear once again to be writing about a place I have never been. Oops! The restaurant is based on the hotel where my lil bro works, but the waiter is definitely not based on him!

* * *

Holby, 2012

Sam got home from the hospital really beginning to hate public transport. Dylan loved it for some reason, but it always seemed to her like a waste of time when you could get there faster by driving, running or cycling. She decided to have a bit of a rest before taking Dervla for her walk, mindful of how much her little rebellion earlier in the week had set her back. She retrieved Dylan's laptop again and tried to answer some of the messages she had received from her friends. She tried to write something but everything came out wrong and after deleting several versions of a message to her friend Holly she closed the web page, giving up for the moment. Usually she had no problem keeping in touch with Holly, even though they worked at opposite ends of the country and Sam was often out of the country all together they had managed to effortlessly sustain their friendship even though they were separated geographically. Now whatever Sam was writing not only sounded wrong, it also didn't sound like her writing it and she was a bit disconcerted by that.

Perhaps she should write her a couple of lines on Dylan's illegitimate love child, that should give her a laugh. Sam cast her mind back over the conversation with the neurologist, wondering just how she had come to that conclusion. It wasn't as if the Italian woman had said anything other than his father was an old med school boyfriend and he drove her crazy. So why had she suddenly started doing the maths?

It was the way the woman had asked if she and Dylan had any children Sam realised, like she had really wanted to know for some reason. The older woman had been a bit strange, after all despite her previous relationship with Dylan, Sam was just a patient and she had randomly started telling her about her son and his difficult relationship with his father. Sam realised this was also what had set alarm bells ringing. The neurologist had been telling Sam as if Sam had a right to know.

Sam really hoped she didn't.

Whatever was going on, Dr Sidoli and Dylan had history, history Sam knew nothing about. They had never really talked about their exes. Sam had boyfriends before Dylan, but nobody that had lasted more than six months and certainly no one she would care about meeting now. She had realised Dylan had probably had relationships before her, after all he was nearly ten years older than her, but she hadn't cared enough about the subject to spend the inevitable time and effort trying to prise any details out of her naturally private husband. She had trusted him and she had been young and she had never really been insecure in that way. Sam knew she was the type of person who liked to enjoy the present and not really worry about the past. She had never considered any of his exes a threat. Until she had separated from Dylan she had always thought exes were exes for a reason, not realising how complex relationships could really get, how you could love someone and still hurt them badly.

She dropped her head into her hands. She was going to have to ask him, just to get her stupid brain to stop dwelling on it. No. She shook her head absentmindedly. He would think she didn't trust him and that was ridiculous. She needed something to take her mind off it. They could go out for dinner, that would be nice. Sam suddenly realised she really needed to get back to her flat as if they did go out she literally had nothing to wear. Maybe she would suggest it for the weekend.

When Dylan finally came home Sam was still in two minds over whether to mention it or not. She greeted him, but she couldn't help feeling a bit preoccupied, although she hoped it wasn't too obvious to Dylan. She had her first counselling appointment the next day, and while she had been through mandatory counselling after the death of Salaih Arangar, she couldn't help feeling a bit nervous about it. Adding in all these other questions to her head was almost too much for her to handle.

"How did it go with the neurologist?" Dylan asked Sam after dinner, carefully not referring to her by name.

"Oh you know. She read me the riot act about running. I seem to have got away with it." Sam looked down at her empty plate. "Did you know she has a son?"

Dylan was silent for a moment and Sam looked up, watching him carefully.

"Yes."

"She said his father hasn't seen him for years. Sad isn't it? She seemed quite angry about it. I don't really know why she was telling me though." Sam said conversationally, waiting for a reaction.

"Nor do I. Excuse me darling." Sam watched confused as Dylan suddenly left the table and picked up his phone from where he left it on the kitchen worktop. He seemed angry again.

"I think I'll take Dervla for a walk." He almost fled the kitchen and Sam was left with the clearing up, none the wiser than earlier.

He came back an hour later but still seemed angry and Sam was too tired by then for anything confrontational. His anger didn't seem aimed at her and Sam kissed him goodnight, happy not to taste alcohol. Whatever it was that was eating him, he was not falling back into old habits.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Dylan got home to a quiet flat, putting his keys on the table before bending down to scratch Dervla's head. She seemed quite pleased to see him and he was glad he wasn't completely alone. Sam was away for two days training and Dylan couldn't be bothered to shake himself out of his black mood. He took Dervla for her walk not really paying much attention to anything other than the dog. _

_When they got home Dylan rubbed her head affectionately and allowed her onto the sofa. Sam was so determined about being clear the dog was not a baby substitute, which probably said more about Sam's unacknowledged desire for a family than anything else, that she missed completely that wasn't how Dylan saw Dervla at all. _

_Dervla was company._

_If anything she was a Sam substitute. Dylan would never dream of replacing Sam with another person when she went away, but he had missed her so much when she went to Germany that he knew it would be hell when she went away again. He hoped Dervla would make things a bit more bearable._

_Dylan sat down at the dining table and looked at the estate agents listings with displeasure. Sam was on at him all the time about this house but when Dylan looked at them all he could see was a bigger and emptier space in which he would have to live without her. He had just begun to convince himself that he and Dervla would be alright in the flat without her and she wanted to move the goalposts. He shut the paper stubbornly and picked up his glass of whisky, brooding. If she wanted a house she would have to stick around in Britain long enough to for them to choose one together._

* * *

Holby, 2012

"So what's brought you here today, Major?" The counsellor opened just as Sam would herself in the E.D. She felt slightly unsettled at being on the other side of that particular question.

"Don't you have my file?" She said, wondering how much she could get away with not saying.

"It's helpful for you to tell me. I see you've been to counselling before?" He said questioned and Sam could hear the implied 'you know how this works, let's just get on with it' in his voice.

"Yes." She said, not feeling cooperative.

"Can you tell me why that was?"

"I killed someone, a civilian." She said shortly, now unsurprised by the pain that admission still caused her.

"And why have you asked for this session today?" He wasn't writing anything, just sitting calmly with her file on his lap.

"I promised my husband I'd speak to someone." She studied the ceiling.

"And why did he make you promise that?" The counsellor was patient but was clearly going in for the kill. Sam could deflect him, but that wasn't really the point of coming here. She did want to feel better.

"He was worried about me. I haven't been myself since I came back from Afghan." She admitted.

"What happened in Afghan?"

"I can't remember." She said and was embarrassed at the distress in her voice. "I have remembered some things but it's like the rest is stuck. And I need to know, two of my team died and another member is badly injured and fighting for his life. And my memory is playing games of hide and seek with me." She could sit still no longer and walked over to the window.

"And how do you expect me to help?" He asked and Sam could almost see the subheading in one of her medical school textbooks. 'Managing expectations; find out what the patient expects from the treatment and give them a realistic idea of how the treatment can help them.'

"I don't know."

"Why exactly is your husband worried?"

"I've been irritable; I never know which mood I'll be in. Things upset me more easily. My nightmares are worse and sometimes I…..sometimes I feel like I'm not in control anymore."

"What makes you think you're not in control?"

Sam looked at him directly, unwilling to follow that line of thought. "I just want to remember what happened. I think not knowing what happened is the worst thing to deal with."

"Why?" He said and Sam realised that he had got to the source of her problems around two weeks faster than she had. She wondered whether she could bring herself to say it.

She was ashamed to find her eyes filling with tears and she looked away, blinking rapidly. She finally won the battle and stared at the floor.

"I think it might have been my fault." She felt odd about admitting that to someone else, like she had said it out loud and now a load of military police were going to burst through the door and arrest her. She looked towards the door, but the dark green painted wood didn't move.

"Is that what you remember?" The counsellor asked in the same casual tone of voice in which he had asked everything else.

"No." Sam said, feeling irritated again. "I don't remember the bomb going off. Regardless, I was in charge. Whether I did something glaringly stupid or not….. my team are dead because of me."

"Well I can see your immediate problem Major. The British Army likes to instil a bit of a God complex in its officers and I can imagine it's even worse for a doctor, but you are not the main person at fault." He said it sarcastically and Sam appreciated his straightforward tone.

"How do you know that? Have you seen the reports?" She asked, feeling a slight ray of hope.

"I don't have to. It was a suicide bomber Major. He was the ultimate one to blame, not you. He made a decision; you just turned up to help people."

Sam was silent, trying to accept this.

"I'd like you to think about that. I'll see you in about two week's time. Call if anything changes. You've made some good progress today, Major."

She nodded and left, unsure how that had gone. Was she supposed to feel miraculously better suddenly? She walked to the nearest bus stop, lost in thought. If there was anything blocking her memories returning she had to get rid of it. Guilt, fear, she had to face it all. She would find out what had happened. She had to.

* * *

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Dylan marched into Eleanora's office and didn't slow down as he slammed the door in the face of the admin assistant trying to head him off.

"What do you mean?" Eleanora said, obviously trying to bluff her way out of it.

"I told you to be professional and you tell her your life story."

"You know why I told her about Giancarlo." Eleanora said, suddenly angry.

"What you said to Samantha was unforgivable. You manipulated a vulnerable patient just to get me to do something." Dylan stepped closer, a perfect mirror of her anger.

"I said nothing overt. There's no need to be so dramatic about it. Did she give you the third degree?" There was a bitter edge to her voice.

"You are her doctor. You were supposed to help her not add to her problems. She lost two members of her team in Afghanistan and the last thing she needs is you making her think she can't trust me. I'm all she's got." Dylan refused to feel overwhelmed by that. He shook his head in disgust. "You haven't changed at all Eleanora. Find Sam a different neurologist, would you, before I report you to the GMC for inappropriate conduct. I thought you were a professional."

"Dylan…" She called after him, but he didn't stop.

* * *

Sam really needed to take Dervla for a walk but the preceding couple of days had left her feeling drained and listless and she didn't know whether she could face the outside world. A sound rang through the houseboat, and Sam realised it was the doorbell, which she hadn't even heard before. She sorted out her hair to cover the missing patch but didn't have the time to get dressed properly.

"Jack?" She exclaimed as she opened the door and saw Dylan's best friend standing there with his hands in his pockets.

"That's Mr Landon now, thank you very much! How are you beautiful?" He said, leaning forward and embracing her warmly. "I heard about your bit of trouble. I'm so glad you're alright. I don't know what his lordship would have done without you."

Sam smiled at him, even though she felt anything but beautiful right now.

"Do you want to come in?"

"Depends. I'm looking for Dylan, you seen him?"

Sam laughed. "He's at work till 7. If you're in a rush you'd better see him there. I suppose people are dropping dead without you, so I'll give you directions to Holby City E.D."

"How nice to meet someone who properly recognises my genius. Happily I got someone else to cover my list for today so no one is missing me that much, except for Miranda of course."

"Ah yes, how is she?" Sam said, searching for a pen and paper.

Oh you know, the little one running her ragged. Dylan told you about this Giancarlo mess?" He said casually.

"No. I mean a little." Sam said, struggling to understand how Jack fitted in.

"It's ridiculous. She tells me she doesn't want me to have any contact and pisses off to Italy and then suddenly Dylan phones me and tells me she's back and calling me all kinds of rotten because I've never had much contact with him. Dylan was lucky to escape that one." He caught her arm. "I'm sorry if you've been dragged into this though. You obviously don't need this right now. It was very unfair of her to involve you."

Sam's brain caught up with what he had just said and she slumped back against the table in relief. Jack was Giancarlo's father, not Dylan. Thank god!

She looked at the floor. "It's fine."

"No, it's not. Listen I can probably find my way there, don't worry about directions. It was good to see you Sam."

Sam smiled at him and he left. She sat down at the table, put her head in her hands and cried, unsure why she was really crying, just feeling overwhelmed. There was just too much stuff going on for her to deal with.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Sam was on her laptop looking up surfing in the area they had decided to go to in Cornwall. She had persuaded Dylan to buy a wetsuit and was in the process of convincing him he really needed to try surfing. Dylan let her, deciding not to mention he had grown up around the sea in Ireland and he really didn't need that much convincing as he loved the water. They were looking at dog friendly hotels as they had a few days off and they intended to take advantage of it, especially with Sam's deployment looming. She seemed a weird mix of nervous and excited about the whole thing. Dylan was dreading it._

_The phone rang and Dylan answered it, hoping it wasn't the hospital needing him to go in._

"_Keogh."_

"_Dylan. It's me."_

"_Gray. What can I do for you?" he said stiffly and Sam gave him a widening of her eyes in reaction and went back to looking at the websites. Dylan got the sense she was listening hard._

"_Grandpa is very ill. The doctor said it's a matter of days now." _

"_Right." Dylan said swallowing his reaction so Gray wouldn't hear anything over the phone._

"_Well are you coming?" Dylan looked at Sam and closed his eyes, putting his hand up to rub his forehead. He had such a short time with her._

"_Ireland?" He asked resignedly and Sam looked towards him with interest._

"_Yes. Call me with your flight time and I'll have someone pick you up from the airport." _

_Dylan put the phone down. "I have to go to Ireland."_

"_Now? What's wrong?" Sam said with concern._

"_My grandfather is very ill apparently. Gray said it's a matter of days. I'm sorry Sam."_

"_It's alright grumpy," She said sympathetically. "We can go on holiday anytime. He lives in Ireland?"_

"_Yes, the house near Waterford."_

"_I'll look for some flights for us." She said going for her laptop._

"_No Sam, I'd rather you didn't come. It's a family thing." He said reflexively. Sam looked like he'd slapped her. _

"_Oh. I'll just make sure… I'll clear a suitcase for you; you know they're all full of my stuff." Sam rambled uncharacteristically, avoiding looking at him and leaving the room as quickly as she could._

_Even Dylan couldn't miss he had said something wrong and cursing loudly went after her. She wasn't in the bedroom, and the bathroom door was shut. _

"_Sam?"_

"_Yes?" She answered in a fake cheerful tone and Dylan knew instantly she was crying._

"_What are you doing in there?" He said, at a loss over how to fix this._

"_Just sorting something out. I'll be out in a minute. There's some stuff in the washing machine that you might want to take?"_

_He sighed and leant against the door. "Sam I didn't mean you aren't my family."_

"_You should really look at sorting out a flight." She said, ignoring his comment completely _

"_I've told you what my family are like. I just don't want you to have to suffer them." He said, trying to explain the faint nausea that started every time he thought of his mother alone with Sam._

"_Just leave it Dylan." She sounded angry now. _

"_No." Dylan said stubbornly. "I'm not going anywhere until you let me in." _

_She wrenched open the door and he nearly fell into the room. "Why won't you leave me alone when I ask you? It's nice to know where I bloody stand though. Not quite family. What will it take?" She stormed past him and not even her anger could mask the sob in her voice._

_Dylan followed her; he knew he was on shaky ground here. Family was Sam's Achilles heel, she had lost her happy family when her mother died and desperately wanted to be part of one again. Being made to feel like an outsider in her own family by her father and stepmother had definitely left its mark and Dylan felt a wave of hatred for her clueless father and witch of a stepmother. _

"_Of course I'm not going to leave you alone when you're upset." He said, approaching her cautiously, knowing if she wasn't crying she would have already been out of the door._

_Sam was standing with her arms wrapped around her, facing the fireplace. She seemed to be trying to control her sobs but was obviously failing and Dylan felt like a bastard. He had done this to her with one ill considered sentence._

_He placed a hand on her shoulder and when she didn't shrug him off he turned her so he could hug her properly._

"_I'm sorry. Of course you're going with me to Ireland."_

"_You don't have to do that. If you don't want me to come I'll stay here. It isn't about that." She said, her voice muffled by his shirt._

"_I do want you to come. But I still want to have a wife at the end of the week. I'm serious Sam; the last girlfriend I took home was not my girlfriend at the end of the trip." He persuaded her to look at him and wiped her tears away._

"_It may not look like it at the moment grumpy, but I'm made of sterner stuff. I don't usually let what people say affect me this much." She insisted not meeting his eyes._

"_We are a family. You, me and Dervla. You are the only person that I couldn't imagine living without." He said, trying to convince her through sheer force of will that what he said was true._

* * *

"_We'll be landing about midday at Waterford." Dylan said, trying to make the phone call as brief as possible._

"_We?"_

"_My wife is coming with me." Dylan said stiffly._

"_Ah yes, Sarah." Gray's voice held a mocking note._

"_Samantha, Gray. Don't pull that rubbish with me. You've met her and you know her father, don't you?" Dylan could tell this trip would be an exercise in self control._

"_Yes. I suppose you could have done worse. At least she comes from a reasonable family." Gray was as snotty as ever._

"_I'm not looking for your approval Gray. I'm just coming to see our grandfather again. Let's see if we can leave the knife sharpening for another occasion shall we?" Dylan put the phone down sharply and took a deep breath. Taking Sam was a really bad idea he could tell, but there was no way of getting out of it now. He would just have to deal with it. _

* * *

Holby, 2012

At midday she forced herself to wash her face and dress to take Dervla for her walk. She was just leaving the houseboat when she spotted Dylan coming towards her. Dervla spotted him too and pulled her towards him.

"Grumpy. You don't usually come home for lunch?" She said, thinking she could guess why he had come home early.

"Jack met me at the E.D. He said he might have upset you." Sam wondered how she had given him that impression.

"He didn't. And if he did it wouldn't have been his fault. It doesn't take much to upset me these days. Of course you know that, having to live with me." She went to turn away and Dylan caught her hand.

"I should have told you about my past with Eleanora. I thought you had enough to worry about but me keeping it from you has added…" Sam interrupted, unwilling for him to continue in his guilt trip.

"Look Dylan, I don't expect you to suddenly become a different person because I've been injured. I know you have trouble talking about these things and I've always trusted you anyway." She broke off, unwilling to further damage her fragile equilibrium. "Let's just walk Dervla? We haven't walked her together for months." She returned his grip on her hand and they begun a slow walk along the dock as Dervla sniffed every interesting looking patch of concrete on the path.

"We should go on holiday when you're a bit better. It's supposed to get sunnier soon."

"I'll believe that when I see it. Where shall we go?" Sam grasped onto this idea wholeheartedly.

"Somewhere dog friendly, a cottage or country hotel maybe?"

"Near the sea." Sam said as if it was a deal breaker.

"We can look online tonight."

"We really need to sort out my flat too. I miss my laptop. It's about three centuries more advanced than yours." Sam teased.

"You've been using my laptop? How did you guess the password?" Dylan said looking confused.

Sam laughed out loud, unable to help the amusement this brought. "It's the same password you were using when I met you, idiot! It took me about two seconds to crack it!"

"Oh. Well, you know me and frivolous technology."

"You only call it frivolous because you can't be bothered to learn how to use it." She accused.

"I like to fill my brain with things I will actually use thank you very much." He huffed.

"That's blatantly untrue grumpy, you know all the rules of cricket"

"Shut up, it's a misunderstood sport."

"It takes forever. All the spectators die of boredom before the match ends."

"It's a team sport requiring individual brilliance. And good things come to those who wait."

"Do they?" She said, feeling suddenly introspective.

"Yes." He said pulling her closer.

"I thought for a minute the little boy was yours." She confessed

Dylan stopped dead. She turned to face him and he just stared at her, looking completely shocked.

"After I thought about it for more than a second I knew he wasn't but it was in my head then and it was difficult to forget. I couldn't understand why else she had told me but I felt so guilty for thinking that about you." All the things Sam had been thinking for the last couple of days came out and she waited for Dylan's reaction.

"I know we've never been the best at communicating but surely you didn't think I had forgotten to tell you I had a child?" He didn't seem angry, but confused.

Sam covered her eyes and groaned, frustrated with herself and turned to start walking again. She tripped straight over Dervla who unknown to Sam had stationed herself by her side during the time they had been talking. Dylan had to reach out and steady her.

"I think she's trying to kill me." Sam said, looking down at the dog with confusion.

"She's just being a bit clingy." Dylan said, watching as she considered eating a banana skin.

"I don't know why. I'm not going anywhere." Sam said kicking the banana skin away from her absently.

"You don't know that for sure. The army might still have you when you have recovered fully." Dylan was trying to sound encouraging but instead he sounded faintly ill at the prospect.

She shook her head. "My hearing is shot Dylan, you know it and I know it. My army career is over. I just hope I'll be able to cope with an E.D."

* * *

_Waterford, Ireland, 2009_

_Sam was a little disconcerted by the car and driver that met them at the airport. She had always known Dylan came from money, but he had always been supremely unconcerned by material things and she wondered now if this was why he seemed to be dragging his heels about the house. Maybe he thought everything she wanted to look at was small and inadequate. Sam had been budgeting on them going half, even though she didn't earn as much as he did. Maybe he was just avoiding telling her he wanted a bigger house. She frowned, that couldn't be right, if he was so bothered about a big house he would never put up with living in their little flat._

_She glanced at him. He was looking out of the car window, watching the urban landscape pass, his expression tightly controlled. Sam decided the peripheral issues were unimportant. It was about Dylan and his grandfather now. She reached for his hand and he looked towards her. She gave him a faint smile and he didn't acknowledge it, returning to looking back out of the window but he held on tightly to her hand and Sam looked out of her window, content he knew she was here for him._

_They pulled up to what could only be a hospital and Sam was grateful they were going straight there. She knew how much the process of dying could be difficult to judge, sometimes taking months or even years longer than predicted and sometimes catching relatives and medical staff alike out with the speed of a patient's deterioration._

_The driver stopped outside the hospital entrance._

"_Did he tell you the ward?" Dylan asked the driver, sounding resigned._

"_No sir." The driver replied and Dylan looked unsurprised "I'll drop your luggage off at the house."_

_Dylan huffed and walked towards the entrance doors and Sam followed him feeling a bit calmer as they entered the hospital. Meeting Dylan's family at the hospital was better than she had hoped. Not only was it public but it was also an environment both of them were very comfortable with._

"_I'm looking for Roderick Keogh." Dylan asked the young man at reception. _

"_Are you family?" The man said automatically._

"_Yes." Dylan said and the man stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate._

"_I'm his grandson." Dylan said with irritation. _

"_Ward 19. Check in with the nurse's desk when you get there." The young man said after checking his computer._

"_Thank you." Sam said quickly as Dylan stalked off. He seemed to know where he was going until they reached the central lift area and then he checked the floor listings. _

"_Fourth floor." He said, more to himself than her. They got in the lift and Sam touched his arm. He turned to look at her. "Let me do the talking."_

_Sam blinked. "You don't have to protect me Dylan. I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself. Look if you are this worried, do you want me to wait downstairs? I don't want to be a distraction. You're here for your grandfather, no one else."_

_She could see that he was tempted but the lift doors opened and he stepped forward without saying anything so she followed him out. They followed the signs to ward 19 and presented themselves at the nurse's station as instructed. They were just waiting for a nurse to appear when Sam spotted a man in dress trousers and rolled up shirt sleeves leaving a room further down. _

* * *

"_Dylan, is that Gray?" He turned to look and frowned. The blonde man had obviously spotted them too and walked towards them purposefully._

"_Dylan. Sarah. Glad you could join us." Dylan stiffened and Sam grabbed his arm discreetly, anchoring him in place._

"_It's Sam, Gray." She said pleasantly. "How is he?" _

"_He barely remembers his own name. We've told him you were coming of course, but it's been so long since he's seen you don't be surprised if he doesn't remember you at all."_

"_Who's in with him?"_

"_Just Caro and I. Mum and Alistair are coming in later."_

"_I'd like to talk to his doctor first."_

"_Yes, that's more your thing isn't it? Well you know where he is. You always have." Gray said pointedly and re-entered the hospital room._

"_Hello, I'm here to see Roderick Keogh, can you tell me about his condition please?" Dylan said as soon as he spotted a nurse returning to the desk._

"_You're the grandson, Dylan?" She asked. Dylan nodded. "Roddy's a lovely man, a real gent. He's suffering from dementia and end stage prostate cancer. We've moved to end of life care and I'm sorry to tell you it won't be long now. He is looking forward to seeing you. He's very proud of you. Tells every junior doctor that darkens his door that his grandson is an A&E registrar. His room is the fourth door along there."_

"_Thank you." Dylan managed. He turned towards the door dazed._

"_You didn't know any of that did you? They didn't tell you?" Sam said in a low tone._

_Dylan shook his head. She didn't let go of the grip on his arm, just adjusted it so he was holding her hand instead. Dylan took a deep breath and entered._

* * *

_Dylan was shocked at his grandfather's appearance in the bright sunlight of the hospital room. He had the wasted skeletal look that people close to death have and Dylan knew instantly it wouldn't be long. Nevertheless he picked up the obs chart at the end of his bed and examined it carefully; stalling from having to see the man he once thought knew everything dying in front of him. Hospitals were just where he worked. It had never before been one of his relatives in the hospital bed in front of him and it was unsettling to say the least. The obs chart confirmed what the charge nurse had told him and he placed it back._

_Gray and Gray's wife Caroline were sitting in chairs along the right side of the bed. She had risen as they entered and was introducing herself to Sam. He was happy to see she at least had no trouble remembering Sam's name. Caroline was an elegant woman with long dark brown hair. She was wearing a grey fitted dress and had a certain polished beauty about her. Together Caroline and Gray looked every inch the successful couple and Dylan was instantly grateful Sam had not bothered overly about she was wearing, dressing appropriately for the warm weather in a short skirt and light blazer. Her casual dress made her look much more approachable than Caroline and he was grateful once again he had escaped that world completely. He turned to the figure in the bed._

"_Hello Grandpa." He said softly and Gray moved to stand on his other side. _

"_He has occasional moments of consciousness." Gray said softly._

"_It's Dylan." He continued and Gray turned away, looking annoyed and placing his hands on his hips. _

"_Dylan." His grandfather opened his eyes and looked straight at him with startling blue eyes that seemed to have been dimmed. Dylan's father had never had the chance to get old, but Dylan was struck how this could be him in sixty years time. _

"_How are you doing?" Dylan said, unsure where to start._

"_Not too bad. Stuck in here, you know. How's the job going? Saving lots of lives?"_

"_Doing my best." Dylan said conscious of his audience._

"_How's it going with that young lady of yours? Samantha? Eileen showed me a picture the other day. She's very beautiful." Dylan realised that his grandfather was not as present as he appeared, as his grandmother had been dead for over a year._

"_I married her. She's here if you want to meet her." He turned round and gestured for Sam to come forward and she did, still blushing a little from being called beautiful._

"_Hello. It's nice to meet you Mr Keogh." Sam said easily, taking Gray's place on the other side of the bed._

"_Well your picture didn't do you justice young lady. I hope you are keeping him in line? We Keogh men can misbehave on occasion. My Eileen will tell you all about that. Where is she?" He seemed to become agitated suddenly._

"_She just stepped out for some tea Grandpa." Gray said quickly and the old man nodded, calming down quickly._

"_My wife tells me you're a doctor too. She used to read me Dylan's letters over the breakfast table. My eyes not what they once were you know."_

"_Yes. I'm in the army." Sam said. _

"_Well aren't you a daring one. Eileen will love you. She was a doctor too before she married and we had Ruari and Conall. You're very like her you know." He started coughing suddenly and Dylan reached forward and secured his oxygen mask. _

_He seemed to be at an uncomfortable angle in the bed and before he could say anything Gray said "I'll get a nurse to make you comfortable."_

"_There's no need." Dylan said without speaking they moved forward as one and seamlessly adjusted the old man's position. Sam retreated and adjusted the position of the bed as much as she could to with the controls at the foot of the bed to try and ensure it didn't happen again._

"_We've been trying to do that for ages." Caroline said irritated._

"_Takes practice." Sam said cheerfully._"_How's that?" She addressed Roddy. _

"_Better, thank you Samantha." Comfortable now, he dropped off to sleep and Dylan turned back to Gray and Caroline for a moment before regarding his grandfather closely._

"_He seemed alright when I was here last"Dylan said, trying to get his head around the fact this indomitable man was not going to be here much longer. He had known it was coming after his grandmother died, after all he was ninety-two. It was still a shock though._

"_Seemed being the operative word. He was suffering from the dementia before she died of course, but he stopped bothering to hide it after she died. And she helped him with everything. Luckily we were able to keep him at the house. The staff have been wonderful, especially Mary O'Donnell. But then the cancer spread, and well you can see for yourself. Of course I shouldn't have to explain myself to you. You are a doctor aren't you? A&E registrar according to Grandpa." Gray seemed to vacillate between angry and mocking._

"_I'm a consultant now actually." Dylan couldn't resist._

"_Yes well, Grandpa's information is hardly up to date. You would know that if you had ever visited." Gray said angrily._

"_You…"He started but Sam interrupted him quickly. "Boys. If you're going to argue, you can do so elsewhere. You'll wake your grandfather." Dylan looked at his wife and saw the army officer in her shine through for the first time, in her posture and her commanding tone despite her ponytail, skirt and ballet shoes._

_Gray's focus shifted from Dylan to Sam and he walked up to her and stood close, looking her over in a derogatory way. Sam met his gaze calmly and he looked back at his grandfather before stalking out of the room, closely followed by Caroline who gave Sam a disapproving look._

"_That went well." Sam commented, coming closer to Dylan and perching herself on the arm of chair he had just sat down in._

* * *

Holby, 2012

Sam sat looking at the letter she had received that morning. It summoned her to an army medical review at her home base in a little over a week's time. That would be four weeks exactly since her surgery and Sam was in little doubt whatever strings her father had pulled meant she would be discharged whatever the outcome of the medical. Even without her decision it was unlikely she would have been returned to active service in Afghanistan, what with her hearing problem, her recent surgery and her now public status as an easy way to strike at the heart of the British government. Her photo was probably up on the Taliban's dart board next to Prince Harry's, just in case.

Sam had seen the letter as she was leaving to take Dervla for her walk this morning and had taken her for such a long walk in consequence that the poor dog was still laid out under the kitchen table, only moving for Sam to give her a sizable treat. Sam's energy levels had improved greatly, as had her frustration and boredom at having nothing to do now she was on the mend properly. Despite her father's promise to visit so far he hadn't and Sam felt any hope she had that things could be better between them vanish. She was so glad she had Dylan. She couldn't have imagined going back to her flat alone after all that had happened but she also had difficulty envisaging Maria welcoming her into her perfect home and family to recuperate.

Sam felt like she might be finally getting back onto an even footing and she knew she had Dylan to thank for it. He had been so patient with her, through her nightmares and mood swings and general bitchiness. That he had put up with her when their reconciliation was so new and fragile said a lot about the person he was and only made her more determined to make things easier for him from now on. She had bought a new dress yesterday and was planning on taking him out for dinner tonight as a surprise. He had three days off and Sam planned on making the most of it. She had already showered and done her hair to hide her scar. She was just waiting for him to get home so she could tell him and they could change and go. She had found the restaurant by searching through his mobile. Apart from a Chinese restaurant it was the only place in there and she hoped that meant it was his favourite, or at least one he would tolerate and that wouldn't give them E. Coli or something.

She dropped the letter back on the table as he came in, only a few minutes late.

"Hello Sam. What's that?"

"Nothing important." She said quickly. "Do you fancy going out for dinner tonight?"

He blinked at her. "Yes. That would be nice. Where do you suggest?"

"The Stables? I booked a table as it was the only restaurant number in your phone."

"You've been planning this. What have you done? You haven't wiped my Sky + have you? I was looking forward to watching those cricket matches." He said watching her suspiciously.

She laughed. "I thought it would be nice to go out together. My treat."

"Alright. Just let me get changed."

"That's okay grumpy. I'm getting changed too." She said playfully and he followed her to the bedroom where they both started to get changed. Sam pulled the dress with its black and white panel and short black skirt over her head. Dylan was changing his shirt and she saw he was going for a dark blue which she had always loved on him.

"Can you do me up?" She asked, conscious she could probably do the dress up herself but wanting to feel his hands on her.

He gathered her hair to one side and zipped her up slowly. He used his grip on her to turn her to face him.

"That's a rather nice dress Mrs Keogh." He said, standing close to her.

"Thank you Mr Keogh." She replied, conscious of her heart rate increasing at the tone in his voice.

He leant in slowly and kissed her. He pulled back. "Are you sure you want to go out?"

Sam was tempted for a moment. "Well we are all dressed up now. What's this restaurant like anyway?"

"Very good. The only downside was they refused to let Dervla in."

Sam laughed as she slipped on her heels. "How dare they?"

It was a short drive to the restaurant and Sam swallowed down her objections to Dylan's driving, desperately missing her own driving license. She was determined to make this an enjoyable night. She had so many bad memories haunting her dreams it seemed like the obvious thing to do was to make new memories, that gave her solace instead of distress.

It started to rain as they parked and they ran across the road, Dylan grinning at Sam's less than graceful attempt at running in her heels.

They made it inside the restaurant and Sam put her hand up to her hair nervously, wondering if her fix job had survived the rush. Dylan pulled her hand down.

"It looks fine Sam."

"Ah Dr Keogh! We haven't seen you in a while. We were beginning to think you had deserted us. Lisa was thinking of making the restaurant dog friendly just to get you back" A young man dressed all in black with a faint Irish accent greeted them.

"Really?" Dylan said hopefully.

"No." The young man said deadpan. "I'm Mal I'll be your waiter tonight." He addressed Sam and she began to think Dylan was a bit too well known to this restaurant.

"So, are you two on a date?" He said cheerfully as he led them to a table.

"Are you in the running for nosiest waiter?" Dylan returned easily and Sam really hoped Dylan had not brought dates here as she was sure Mal would take great pleasure in telling her about all of them.

"Always." Mal said quickly. "If you are on a date, you should encourage him to tip better. He might go for it if a pretty girl like you asks."

"I'm paying tonight actually." Sam said, liking his cheeky manner.

"Is it his birthday? We could play Cliff Richards - Congratulations?"

Sam laughed. "It's not his birthday."

"Thank god" Dylan muttered.

"Ah, now did he just get out of jail? That would explain where he's been the last month." Dylan glared and Sam sensed his patience was running out.

"Actually I've not been very well and he's been looking after me." She said, surprising herself by admitting it.

Dylan watched her carefully.

The waiter sensed the change in atmosphere. "Well I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you're feeling better. We like it when he's in you know. One of the first times he was here he saved this lady from choking. It was awesome. That's why we give him free desert." He took their drinks orders and left them with the menu.

"The service here is unique." Sam commented.

"You didn't have to explain yourself to him." Dylan said shortly.

"I brought you here as a thank you Dylan. I thought I may as well say it. Thank you for the last month. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Dylan looked suddenly upset. He reached into his jacket pocket and Sam was puzzled when he pulled out her medical review letter that she had left on the kitchen table. She wondered why he looked so upset, he had already known what was in it, and she had told him the process when she was still in hospital.

"Is this thank you and goodbye?" He asked slowly as if he couldn't bear to hear the answer.

"What? No!" Sam said instinctively and he relaxed a little. Sam felt tears fill her eyes at the thought of him thinking that. "I love you, you idiot. I'm not going anywhere ever again."

"What about the army?" Dylan said, and she could see he still wasn't convinced. She considered for a moment telling him that she would never pass the physical, but she decided the least he deserved was to be secure in his place in her life.

"I told my father I wanted out in Birmingham. He said he'd see to it. The medical is just a formality." She admitted.

"Why didn't you just tell me that?" He leant forward and grasped her hand which was playing with the empty wine glass absently.

"I'm sorry. You assumed and it was easier for me to go along with your assumption." She said grateful she finally seemed to be winning her battles against the tears.

The waiter returned and placed their drinks on the table looking at their joined hands

"So clearly not a first date then. Oh, if you've been looking after her, she's not your patient is she?" Dylan rolled his eyes.

"Before you accuse me of committing any more offences, this is Samantha, my wife." He said with annoyance, but Sam knew he wouldn't have given in if he hadn't liked the young waiter, at least a little.

The waiter raised his eyebrow. "Wow. Well fair play, Dr Keogh. Though I am a little upset not to have received an invitation. Hurt, you might say." He gave Sam a teasing look.

"We've been married three years, so your indignation is a little late. I'll have the steak." Dylan said and the waiter looked a bit confused but covered it well.

"And for Mrs Keogh?"

"I'll have the sea bass with a side salad." Sam said, deciding against correcting him. There were plenty of people who called her doctor or major. Being just Mrs was nice for once.

"Nothing to start?" The waiter was eyeing Dylan like he knew what was coming.

"We'll have the chicken liver parfait." He shot Sam a 'trust me' look and she smiled at him.

He wasn't wrong, the starter was amazing and the main course was very good too. Sam could see why he liked the place, although by the way the waiting staff fussed over him it was clear that wasn't the only reason he came back regularly.

An older woman with greying blonde hair came over to their table. "Did you enjoy your meal?"

"Yes thank you, as always Lisa."

She addressed Sam. "It's nice to meet you, finally. Why on earth didn't you bring her before Dylan?" She chided him in a very motherly way.

"I used to work away." Sam said before he could reply and he looked happy at her use of the past tense.

"Sam is a doctor in the army." He said and Sam saw for the first time that there was a hint of pride there, she had been so caught up in her guilt about leaving him she had missed it every time.

"I'm leaving the army now. So you'll be seeing a lot more of me." Sam said, more to Dylan than the manager.

"Well I'm glad we'll be seeing you again. We were rather missing Dylan. Without him the customer complaints rate against Mal had gone right down and you can imagine how he gets when that happens. Glad you're okay dear." She said glancing at Sam's arm and Sam was startled. She looked down at her left arm and saw the big red jagged line still clearly visible there from the laceration she received in the explosion. She had been so concerned with hiding her missing patch of hair she hadn't given it a second glance. She put her hand over it and stared at the table suddenly feeling exposed.

"Shall we get the bill?" Dylan said gently.

Sam met his eyes and forced herself to return her arms to their original position on the table.

"No. The specials board is behind you and I've been fancying the cheesecake all night."

"We could get it to go?" he suggested.

"They do that here?" Sam said tempted.

"They would do it for me." He said without a trace of self consciousness.

Sam studied him, thinking about how she had been feeling restless and bored lately. To cut short their night out now sounded like giving in to her. She was fed up of feeling like she wasn't behaving like herself.

"No, it's fine. So you were a regular here?" She asked, trying to imagine his life without her in it.

"Yes. At least once a week."

"I'm surprised you aren't the size of a house, judging by the food I've had so far."

"I walk Dervla thank you very much. And since September I've been running around after you, trying to make sure you don't land yourself in some new form of trouble."

"Oh yes, a GMC investigation, a cave in and a chemical leak. Good job Keogh."

"I think I got you out of all of those situations actually." He said smugly.

"Oh really?" She laughed, "I don't remember seeing you at Silverton?"

"And yet I still got flowers." He said.

"We got flowers. Technically I got flowers and you got an extra doughnut." She smirked at him playfully, forgetting her discomfort.

They ordered desert and Sam enjoyed her Bailey's cheesecake, while Dylan attacked his sticky toffee pudding happily. They followed it with coffee, which Sam didn't enjoy as much as she normally did. For some reason it tasted a bit odd to her. She sat back, not particularly caring, she had stuffed herself rather successfully and was hoping that she had seen the back of the nausea she had felt after the surgery for good. This had been a rather good night, despite the misunderstanding earlier and she felt hopeful that perhaps they had turned a corner.


	17. Chapter 17

The Damage We Do – Chapter 17

I would like to apologise for the epic length of this chapter. It just turned out like this. I will try and return to a more normal chapter length and posting schedule for the next chapter. Also the cast of o/c's reached epic proportions in this chapter, sorry!

Big shout out to the awesome reviewers for this story which keep me motivated and working. Antonia, Brookemarie2604, Abbey, Ficmouse and Callie Rawston, you are all great! Review replies will hopefully follow tomorrow!

I have been obsessed by the Olympics which as a normally quite sport apathetic person I've been really shocked at, so that's how I've been spending most of my time. Go Team GB! Right anyway, lets get on with it!

* * *

Holby 2012

Sam decided it was time to get more of her things from her flat so she cajoled Dylan out of bed and set foot in her flat for the first time since she had returned from Afghan.

The mound of mail Dylan had already stacked on her coffee table had already been added to since he had last been there. She looked around the flat, estimating the number of boxes she would need with a practiced eye. It wasn't that bad actually, Dylan had already picked up an odd assortment of her things for her, and she had never really been one for possessions, her nomadic lifestyle meaning she wasn't very sentimental over material items by necessity. Truthfully she had still not unpacked some things from the last time she had moved and she cleared out her bedroom of possessions in one fell swoop, throwing all her clothes and shoes that remained into suitcases.

"I seem to remember you having more things." Dylan commented, packing some textbooks into a box in the main room.

"I suppose I got rid of a lot. I moved around a couple of times after we separated. I left a lot at The Hollies too."

"Yes. I still have some boxes in a cupboard on the boat. I downsized some of it. Your work from med school didn't make the cut I'm afraid."

"To be honest I'm surprised you didn't burn the lot." She said lightly, trying not to let memories of that time overwhelm her.

"I considered it. To be honest that's what happened to your work from med school. Sorry."

Sam tilted her head at him, signalling she thought it was fair enough. She dropped the box of important documents she had found into a big shopping bag Dylan had found for the purpose.

"I buggered things up royally." She said knowing she was treading on dangerous ground but equally certain that they needed to talk about the past at some point or it would come back and haunt them. She supposed she should end the lease on her flat. She seemed to have moved in with Dylan again now and it was a waste of money keeping this place. There was a part of her that still expected everything with Dylan to fall apart again and she was fighting to convince the pessimistic side of her that it was fine and they would be okay. They were definitely getting on better than they had in ages, Sam didn't know whether it was Dylan's sober status or the lack of the next deployment date hanging over them but things were seeming like they could really make a go of it, finally.

The light from the window illuminated the dust particles moving in the sunlight. Sam was mesmerised by them, the way they moved somehow familiar, and she blinked and she was once again in the dust filled room in Afghan, the volume suddenly turned up to maximum.

The bomber held Sarah in front of him, holding the dead mans switch out for her to see.

"Let her go." Sam yelled, desperately looking for a shot, Sergeant Jones beside her doing the same.

Sarah's terrified eyes were boring into her, tears slipping from her eyes silently. Sam spotted Johnny Brown who had obviously re-entered the building against her orders stealthily getting closer to the bomber behind his back. She felt hope fill her. If he could just get there in time. The bomber was sweating profusely and shouting in Farsi something about this being revenge. He was waiting for something, or was trying to work himself up to do the deed.

"Let her go." Sam said in rudimentary Farsi. "She is a nurse and a wife and mother." She hoped she had got that right, she was no linguist but she was stalling, having no illusions about appealing to the bomber's better nature. If they could get a shot and Johnny could get his hand on the switch Sarah had a chance.

"Adeeb says you must die, woman." The bomber said in English, locking eyes with Sam. Sam faltered, confused and Sergeant Jones glanced at her quickly with the same expression. The bomber closed his eyes and released the trigger just as Johnny lunged for him and Sam felt Sergeant Jones body hitting her and the force of the explosion a fraction a second later and then she heard Dylan calling her name frantically.

She felt like she had been underwater holding her breath and drew in sharp breaths as fast as she could, aware she was in danger of hyperventilating but unable to stop herself. She dropped to the floor, unable to hold herself up.

She remembered now. The bomber had been after her. Not Sarah, not Johnny, not Ryan, her.

"Sam, what is it?" Dylan was saying. "Sam?"

"I remember. I remember." Sam said, meeting his eyes dully. She tried to rise. "I have to call the army."

"No! Sit down. You're not going anywhere until I'm sure you are alright." Dylan said but Sam barely paid any attention to him. It was like a mental block that had been protecting her was gone and everything was back, the day of the explosion that she had been missing and the aftermath, when she had woken up in the room surrounded by the remainder of her MERT team desperately trying to help her and Ryan, telling them both they were going to be okay.

She remembered Asif Khan, one of the force protection officers from 1st the Rifles gripping her hand and telling her she was going to be fine and that it was just a scratch and her husband would be angry with her for being such a drama queen. She had thought of Dylan and thought of the letter she had left for him and how it now seemed so inadequate and how she wished she could talk to him again, just once.

She rose and buried her face in his chest and he put his arms around her and held her silently.

They sat in her flat, somehow having ended up on the sofa.

"What happened?" Dylan asked her; still unsure whether she was capable of responding.

"The bomber was sent by someone. He had a grudge against me, I'm not really sure why. I was the target. My team were targeted because of me." She looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading and Dylan was reminded of having to pull her away from Asta's body at Plymouth before they were married.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, still with a glazed look in her eyes.

"Oh my darling. I'm so sorry."

"The bomber, he had Sarah around the neck and we couldn't get a clear shot." Sam breathed in like it was physically hurting her to say this.

"You don't have to tell me." Dylan said.

"I have to tell a complete stranger soon. I want to tell you. Please."

He nodded for her to continue, his heart sinking further as he heard the last minutes of her colleagues lives.

* * *

_St Eogan's Hospital, Waterford, Ireland, 2009_

_Gray re-entered the room without Caroline and Sam took the opportunity to leave them alone, hoping it wouldn't descend to the verbal warfare of earlier. Roddy's condition had deteriorated further just while they had been sitting with him and Dylan had asked the nurse to call in his mother and uncle early. Sam would have called them but Dylan had shaken his head when she suggested it, seemingly still unwilling to let Sam anywhere near his mother. She loitered outside the room for a moment, wondering what to do. She finally decided to get some fresh air and exited the hospital into the bright sunlight of the late summer day._

_Sam's own grandparents had been already deceased or absent from when she was a very small child and she had always been jealous of her classmates who seemed to have been showered with affection by their grandparents. All she had was a very vague memory of her mother's mother, baking a cake with her in an unfamiliar kitchen and making a mess with the icing while her mother looked on laughing. She still loved this memory even now but she knew she couldn't really understand what Dylan was feeling. You couldn't really miss what you never had after all._

_Sam sat on the sun-warmed flowerbed wall, far enough from the smokers to be pleasant and swung her legs restlessly. She had never before realised how boring hospitals could be, she usually always had too much to do, not too little. She looked at her watch. She wanted to give Dylan and Gray some space without giving them too much space but she was unsure how long to leave it. She sighed and took out a textbook from her bag and started reading it, having to make a herculean effort to concentrate as all her mind wanted to think about was Dylan and how he was doing. She forced herself to keep reading, she may need this information in a few short weeks on her first deployment and she had no intention of letting any of her colleagues down._

_She finally looked up as her attention was caught by the same big black car they had arrived in pulling up outside the hospital entrance. Out of it emerged a man and a woman, both smartly dressed. The man strode into the hospital but the woman, about sixty with silvery blonde hair looked over at Sam. She must have caught Sam staring as she returned her gaze with a hint of annoyance before entering the hospital. Sam stopped swinging her legs abruptly. That was probably Dylan's mother and she'd just seen her gawping and swinging her legs like a school girl. Sam cringed and shut her textbook. This was never going to go well, Sam reflected. After all Dylan had a phobic level fear of Sam meeting his mother and now Sam was finally meeting her in the midst of a family bereavement. At least Sam, with her difficult relationship with her wicked stepmother, was fairly equipped to deal with it. She had seen it all before. Whatever Madeleine chose to throw at her it wouldn't make a difference._

* * *

Sam sat at their kitchen table, writing her report in silence. It looked like all the colour had been drained out of her and she seemed to have shut down completely. Dylan had just been thinking maybe they were starting to turn a corner, despite all that rubbish with Eleanora and Jack and now it was like they were back to square one. In fact, Dylan hadn't seen Sam this bad since she had lost her best friend in Plymouth.

She seemed to still be in shock and they had to stop the jeep on the way back so she could be sick. Dylan was privately quite concerned at this very physical reaction so soon after her head injury and was watching her closely. She had made a brief phone call to the army and had been told to write her report and that someone would come to them to debrief her tomorrow. Dylan was glad they were coming to her; he didn't feel like he could let her out of his sight. If she was a bit more aware Dylan would be removing the sharp objects from the boat, but truthfully she didn't look like she was capable of any decisive action of that kind. It was terrifying to see his wife like that. Sam was reckless, impulsive, but she was always full of life even if she drove him to distraction sometimes with her antics. This shut down Sam was unnatural, and he really hoped she snapped out of it soon.

* * *

That night Dylan lay down to sleep but he couldn't shut off his brain. He knew what was coming and knew that Sam did too. She dropped off to sleep straight away, obviously exhausted but he watched her closely, needing to be there for her when she needed him. He watched as she dreamt and her expression changed to one of distress. Little beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and he couldn't just watch any more. He shook her shoulder to wake her and was unprepared when she leapt awake, rolling over and pinning him to the bed and pulling back her arm to strike him.

"Sam!" He yelled, shocked, trying to get her off him. He could practically see the awareness return to her eyes and she released him instantly, scrambling backwards off the bed like he had burned her and standing there in her shorts and vest top with her hands over her mouth.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" She said coming forward towards him before stopping herself abruptly. He could hear the horror and self-loathing in her voice.

Dylan got up from his prone position, feeling a twinge in his shoulder from where she had applied pressure.

"No. No, I'm fine." He said cautiously.

Sam released a large breath and pulled a pillow from the bed. She moved towards the door and Dylan realised she was leaving.

"Where are you going?"

"To the sofa." She said as if it was obvious.

"Don't be ridiculous." He said, although in truth he was a bit shaken.

"Ridiculous?" She let out a noise of disbelief. "I nearly hit you!"

He got up out of the bed and went towards her, and studied her by the light of the bedside lamp she always left on. In the dim light in her skimpy sleep wear she looked smaller and younger than usual, like the nightmare had diminished her somehow.

"I woke you up in the middle of a nightmare."

She closed her eyes tiredly. "It doesn't matter. I could have hurt you. I can't take that chance." She left the room and Dylan let her go, rubbing his shoulder under his t-shirt as soon as she had left the room.

He passed an unsettled night, getting up periodically to check on her and examined the small hand shaped bruise on his shoulder after his shower once again feeling at a loss over how to deal with things.

She was still sleeping with the news channel on in the background when he emerged from the bedroom.

He made some coffee and sat down to some cereal and toast, sure the smell would bring her to him.

Sure enough she appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, still in her shorts and vest with her arms crossed around herself.

"Morning." She said quietly, seeming unsure of her reception.

"There's toast." Dylan said calmly. She sat down at the table and poured herself a coffee, only taking a brief sip before pushing it away with a grimace. She took the longest time to eat a piece of toast he had ever seen but he waited her out patiently.

He went to speak and stopped himself but then changed his mind.

"That was new. Being in bed with you isn't usually so hazardous. Well except for that one occasion…"

"Stop." She said angrily and Dylan was taken aback. "Don't brush this off or try and make a joke of it. This is serious Dylan. I could have really hurt you. God, I broke a mans neck last year."

"There were extenuating circumstances there."

"Oh that's alright then, I'll just say that to the judge when I'm on trial for your murder shall I?" She said mockingly.

"I think you're being slightly overdramatic…"

"You don't understand." She stood up abruptly from the table and went into the bedroom, slamming the door as she went.

Dervla whined from her station under the table.

"Yes well, you give it a try then." He said to the dog and she looked at him balefully.

* * *

_St Eoghan's Hospital, Waterford , 2009_

_Dylan stood back as his mother and his uncle entered the room. The movement seemed to wake his grandfather who opened his eyes, struggling to focus as his oxygenation levels crept ever lower. Dylan stood there feeling bizarrely exposed without his ID badge and stethoscope. His mother gave him an intense look before sitting down in the seat he had vacated._

"_Hello Dad." Alistair said going to his other side. His mother picked up his grandfather's hand and stroked it gently. Dylan had not seen his mother show so much affection in years._

"_How are you feeling?" She asked._

"_Not too bad." His grandfather replied and Dylan couldn't help rolling his eyes. The older generation were a breed apart in his opinion, here his grandfather was, close to dying and he was feeling 'not too bad'._

"_I see Dylan came to see you." His mother said without looking at Dylan._

"_Dylan? Madeleine don't be silly, he's still away at school. Ruari came though." Roddy said with difficulty._

"_That's good" His mother said, and Dylan got the impression that his grandfather thinking he had seen Dylan's father, his eldest son, who had been dead for the last twenty years, was not a isolated incident._

_His grandfather turned to Dylan's uncle. "You didn't bring me in a drop did you? I could do with a stiff drink." He started coughing as he said this and Dylan stepped forward and gently placed the oxygen mask back over his face._

"_Thanks Ruari." Dylan could just make out through the mask and he felt like an imposter, as if he had stolen his father's place somehow._

"_Sorry Dad. We couldn't get it past the nurses." Alistair said with humour in his voice._

_The oxygen mask came off again. "Ah well Conall, if you gave it a good go we'll say no more." He placed the oxygen mask back himself and drifted off again. Gray and Caroline pulled up two more chairs, but Dylan leaned back against the wall, knowing his grandfather didn't have long at all. He listened to the rhythm of the breathing, it slowing and getting more laboured. He vaguely registered Sam re-entering the room and coming to stand beside him, so close that he could feel the warmth of her against his side. The breathing stuttered and stopped a few times before starting again, and then it didn't restart._

"_Is he gone?" Gray asked Dylan and he stepped forward and checked his pulse but he didn't really need to. He nodded and the entire room felt odd, as though someone had let all the air out of it somehow. He reached over and turned the oxygen off._

"_I'll get a doctor." Sam said quietly to him and slipped out of the room, returning quickly with a young doctor who the other members of his family seemed to know. She ran through her checks, giving Dylan and Sam a brief look as she probably wondered who they were._

"_I'll have to confirm his death now. I'm sorry for your loss" She said. "If you'll wait in the relatives' room for a few minutes we'll free him from all these tubes and get him looking sharp before you see him again."_

"_Thank you Clare." Dylan's mother said and she rose, finally releasing his hand gently. _

_Dylan felt very confused. He had always been closer to his grandmother and had always thought she had supported his medical ambitions and kept his grandfather from interfering through sheer force of will. He had drifted away from his grandfather in consequence and now when it came to it felt strangely detached, like he was separated from the rest of the people in the room. He had rather successfully cut his family out of his daily life and now he didn't know how to feel at all. He was struck by the sensation that he had missed out on something big, but he didn't really understand what it was. He followed Sam numbly and sat down in the relatives' room, staring at the floor as though it held the secrets of the universe. He felt Sam sit down on the arm of his chair again, as though she had suddenly become allergic to finding her own seat. He was glad of it, he was glad to be reminded there was at least one person in the room who was on his side. They sat there in silence, the minutes ticking by._

"_What are they doing?" Gray asked Dylan, having obviously decided that his main function was to provide inside information about the medical procedures._

"_They have checks to do. They have to keep checking for five minutes to confirm his death. Then they have to make him comfortable like his doctor said. You should be able to go back and say goodbye soon." Sam answered gently, obviously not letting Gray's earlier tantrum prejudice her._

"_Will you be alright if I go back to the house to check on Clara and Matthew? I should tell them. They'll be so upset." Caroline murmured to Gray. _

"_Good idea. Why don't you take Samantha with you?" His mother said unexpectedly in a neutral tone. Dylan felt Sam shift uncomfortably next to him. "If that's alright with you Samantha? There's no point in all of us being here." _

_Sam looked at Dylan and he could hear the silent question and had no doubt she would tell his mother to bugger off if he so requested. He nodded instead and Sam rose._

"_In fact Dylan, there's really no need for you to be here either." She said in the same neutral tone. Dylan felt a sharp pain that broke through his numbness. He stared his mother down and she looked away. Gray looked upset and was looking at his mother accusingly._

"_Fine." He couldn't be in the room with them anymore, he had to get out. He felt Sam bristle next to him and knew she was about to explode on his behalf so grabbed her arm and guided her out, seeing Sam blatantly give his mother a disgusted look in the process. He wondered why he had ever been worried Sam would be bowed by her. He walked straight to his grandfather's room where the nurses were still preparing him, the junior doctor obviously having finished her checks._

"_Can I have a minute with him please?" He asked the nurses with authority. They stepped back and left him. He took his grandfather's still warm hand._

"_Thank you." His eyesight blurred but he didn't allow himself to cry. "Goodbye Grandpa." He stared at him for a brief moment before placing his hand back carefully and leaving. He ran straight into Sam in the corridor who swept him straight into a hug. He buried his face in her for a moment, allowing himself a moment to grieve. Caroline was waiting for them outside and seemed very subdued. She gave them both a watery smile before they got into the car together._

_Dylan watched the urban landscape turn to rural absently, memories of his childhood and summers spent in this place threatening to overwhelm him._

"_How old are Clara and Matthew?" Sam asked Caroline._

"_Eleven and nine. They wanted to come to the hospital but we thought it would be a bit too much for them. Is that the first time you've met Madeleine?" She asked and seemed much friendlier than earlier._

"_Yes" Sam replied wincing. "It didn't exactly play out as I had hoped." Dylan let their conversation wash over him. He had spotted the familiar driveway, sheltered from the road by the trees swaying lightly in the evening breeze. They rounded the corner and the house came into sight, a large Georgian grey stone house that seemed to have been left there by mistake. The hillside stretched downwards away from it and at this angle it looked like a sheer cliff face. He heard Sam breathe in next to him at the sight. The front door opened and he could see the housekeeper, Mary O'Donnell, standing on the step, looking upset._

_She reached out and grasped Dylan and Caroline's hands. "Is he gone?" Dylan suddenly felt it acutely and could only nod, unable to speak. "He's at peace then." She said obviously relieved as well as upset. Not even her obvious distress could mask the curiosity as she sneaked a look at Sam._

"_How are you Dylan?" She addressed him and he stepped forward to hug her, having missed her warm manner. "We've all missed you. And this must be your Samantha." She stepped forward and surprised Sam by hugging her as well. Sam looked bemused but pleased at her reception._

"_Clara and Matthew are watching TV with Ethan. They were doing a Harry Potter marathon when I last popped my head in." Caroline nodded and steeled herself before headed towards the games room._

"_Did you talk to him before he went?" Mary asked him anxiously._

"_Yes. We had a nice conversation, though he spent most of it chatting up Sam." _

_Sam whacked him on the arm automatically. "He was a perfect gentleman, thank you very much."_

"_He thought I was my father." Dylan said unwillingly not really understanding why he was sharing this detail._

"_Yes, he did that often. That's why Lydia isn't here. He kept mistaking Clara for Millie and she couldn't stand it." Dylan had a moment of confusion before he realised he had months ago replaced the association of the image of Millie with Jess's baby daughter instead of his late cousin. He considered perhaps if Lydia had been able to do the same she would have been able to stand with her husband today. But they had made their decisions and they had to live with them. Dylan reflected all these serious decisions, made in anger, all seemed a bit worthless today._

"_I'm going to go for a walk if that's okay. I'll be back soon." He said to Sam, needing some time to think. She squeezed his hand and nodded, and he left the house, trying to collect himself for the ordeals still to come._

* * *

Holby, 2012_  
_

Sam woke with a jolt, looking around at the unfamiliar environment. She sat up abruptly and put her legs over the side of the sofa. She was in the living room on Dylan's boat and everything was fine. Except it wasn't, not really, everything was about as far from fine as you could get. She could feel her heart racing and she doubled over, deciding she really didn't want to wake Dylan but feeling the horror of her nightmare as an almost physical pain. She looked towards the bedroom but all was quiet. Perhaps she could go back in? Her nightmare tonight had just ended with her waking up as usual; maybe yesterday was just a one off?

No. She couldn't take that risk. If she hurt Dylan she would never forgive herself. He was the one precious thing in her life, the one thing that was making her life at the moment bearable. Sam sat there feeling lost, drowning in guilt and grief. She knew she was crying, but they were silent tears, running down her face and out of her control. She didn't understand why she was still here and her colleagues weren't. What did Johnny and Sarah do that was so wrong? Why was she the only one who had escaped unscathed? She still didn't understand why she had been targeted. The military policeman who had taken her report and questioned her had seemed unsurprised, but she couldn't understand why an insurgent had taken such a clear interest in her, just her. What had she done in Afghan except do her job, just as hundreds of other military medical personnel who had been in her place had done?

The dark night outside seemed to go on forever and that was how Sam felt at the moment. There was no prospect of happiness or improvement, just continuation of a black hole of guilt. She looked toward the corridor to the bedroom. She really needed Dylan right now, but she couldn't bring herself to go to him, not like this. Please wake up; please know that I need you she thought, repeating it over and over in her head like a mantra. She pulled her legs up to her chest and laid her head on the arm of the sofa and stared unseeingly into the dimly lit room, muffling the sound of her crying with her hand over her mouth.

* * *

Dylan awoke and looked at the clock. It was around two and he was aware he was only awake because he seemed to have become attuned to Sam's nightmare cycles. It took him a fraction of a second to decide to check on her. He hated that she was sleeping in the other room; he would rather have another incident like last night than not be with her when she needed it.

He got up and made his way slowly and quietly along the corridor. He heard a noise. It sounded like Sam was awake. He moved quietly into the living room. Sam was awake, she had leant her head on the arm of the sofa and she was obviously crying. Wrapped up in her misery she didn't notice him come in until he sank down on the sofa next to her. She met his eyes and the look of utter relief on her face at seeing him was almost more than he could bear. He pulled her towards him and she didn't resist, ending up almost in his lap. He instantly decided that whatever she thought she wanted, she was not sleeping in here alone again. It was ridiculous. She clung to him and sobbed and it was then Dylan realised that after all she had been through; he hadn't seen her cry since she woke up from her surgery.

"Thank you." She managed to say. Dylan didn't reply, unsure of what she meant.

"It's all my fault." She sobbed and Dylan could hear the conviction in her voice.

"No. No my darling of course it's not." He murmured to her, wanting to do anything to ease her pain.

"He was after me and I'm still here and they aren't." She insisted

"It's war Sam. You were the enemy. He blew himself up, he wasn't exactly rational. You can't blame yourself."

"Then why? Why did I escape when everyone else was hurt so badly? I don't understand…"

Dylan struggled to remain calm at her words; she was obviously in pain and needed to talk about this.

"You didn't escape. You were hurt very badly and nearly died. Trust me Sam. You nearly died." Some of the echo of that remembered pain must have come through in his voice because Sam looked up at his face, her eyes still shining with tears.

"I'm so sorry Dylan; I never meant to put you through that."

Dylan wanted to say, why then? Why did you volunteer to go back early? Why did you ask for a divorce when we were just beginning to sort things out? Instead he said. "It's alright Sam. It's alright. I'm just glad you're here."

She looked up at him through watery eyes. "You are the only thing that makes sense to me anymore."

She snuggled up to him and he just held her, trying not to feel overwhelmed by the responsibility, just glad that she was here with him. He couldn't have stood it if she had felt the need to walk away. Her medical review was in the morning. He couldn't wait to have it in writing that she was free. He had wished for this day since he had first found out about the army and although he wished it hadn't had to happen like this, he was glad he would finally have his wife all to himself.

* * *

Sam waited outside the office, unsure why she was feeling this nervous. She clutched in her hand a copy of her neurosurgeons and neurologists records, the latter of which Dylan had obtained for her from Dr Sidoli. She had also just had an audiologists assessment which she didn't think had gone well. Regardless of whether she was leaving the army or not the idea that she was permanently damaged was difficult to accept. That the army were just about to tell her they didn't want her because of it was going to be hard to hear and she prayed she didn't do anything ridiculous like cry.

This was what she wanted, after all. Sam wondered if it was normal to feel so terrified at the thought of leaving the army. It had been part of her life since she was eighteen, the only consistent thing in her life apart from medicine. She had always felt part of something bigger than herself and felt damn proud of what she did and why she did it. When she had separated from Dylan, she had run straight back to the army even though she should have had a bigger time between her deployments. Throwing herself into the job had been the only way she had got through it. To lose that now made her feel cut adrift even if it had been her own choice.

The Captain opened the door. "Major Nicholls?" Sam jumped to her feet. The name already sounded odd to her. She took a deep breath before striding forward. Best to just get it over with.

* * *

_Waterford, 2009_

"_Well young lady, I've been desperate to meet you. I thought Dylan was never going to settle down. I don't suppose you have any wedding photos to show me do you?" Sam watched Dylan go with trepidation, wondering if she should have insisted on going with him._

_She shook herself and returned her attention to Mary. "If you have a computer I can show you them."_

"_Come into the study then. He'll be fine. He's a Keogh, he enjoys a good brood." The older woman seemed to want the distraction and Sam was just happy that there was a least one person in the house that seemed to accept her easily._

"_Family trait is it?" Sam said wryly. She sat down at the computer and signed into her facebook account, quickly bringing up her wedding photos. Mary drew up a chair beside her and Sam clicked through the photos. The housekeeper sniffed next to her. "You make a lovely couple. I can't remember the last time he looked so happy. I wish his grandmother had been able to see it. She always worried about him, until the day she died. Leaving him her ring was her way of pushing him along I think."_

_Sam smiled, feeling she was getting to know her husband in a way she had not expected. "I'm glad she did."_

"_Who is this then?" The woman peered at the photo and Sam realised she probably recognised Jess. It was a photo of Sam and Dylan standing in the centre with Sam's father and wicked stepmother on one side and Jess holding baby Millie on the other._

"_That's the family photo. My father and stepmother and Dylan's cousin and her baby daughter."_

"_Little Jessie has a baby?"_

"_Yes. She's almost a year old now. Her name is Millie." Mary looked at her sharply and Sam returned her gaze. _

"_That name has not been said with happiness in this house for almost twenty years." Mary said turning back to the photo. "The last time I saw Jessie she was a mess. Mrs Keogh, Dylan's grandmother you know, she tried to help her as much as she could but her health was failing by then. Jessie stole some things from us and we never saw her again. She's clean now?"_

"_Yes. She has a girlfriend too. She's happy." Sam said, unsure how this would be received._

_The housekeeper's eyebrows rose. "Hmm. Less trouble than a man I suppose. I'm glad things worked out for her. Lord knows she didn't have it easy. I always wondered where she went from here. I suppose I should have realised."_

"_She went to Dylan." Sam said, sensing she was confirming what the lady suspected._

"_He always did try and protect her from everything." Mary looked around the room. "I wonder what will happen now. I've been part of the Keogh family drama's for so long I'm not sure I'll know what to do with myself. Well, I suppose I should get going on dinner. I expect you two are starving by now."_

"_Do you need any help?" Sam asked politely_

"_What a lovely idea. That would be grand. It'll be nice to have some company, and you can tell me all about how you and Dylan are getting on in England." Sam followed the housekeeper to the kitchen, wondering where Dylan had got to. The kitchen was massive and dominated by a proper farmhouse style heavy wood table in the middle of the room. To her surprise Dylan was there, leaning on the side and eating something it looked like he had just stolen from the fridge._

"_Dylan Keogh!" Mary said loudly and Dylan jumped guiltily. Sam couldn't help laughing._

"_What are you eating? It's not long till dinner and you'll ruin your appetite!" Mary said sternly but there was a glint in her eye._

_Dylan put down the plate of sausage rolls like they were unexploded ordinance and stepped away from them._

"_Sorry Mary." He seemed to be waiting for something._

"_Well alright, just the one. Honestly, you lot have me wrapped around your little finger. Would you like one dear, before he eats them all?"_

_Sam walked up to her husband grinning and selected one off the plate he was holding out in the manner of a particularly belligerent waiter._

"_You okay grumpy?" She murmured. He nodded; stealing another sausage roll while Mary's back was turned._

"_I saw that!" She said, without turning around. "You two can chop the cucumbers, tomatoes peppers and onions for the salad. That should keep you out of mischief." _

_Dylan got some chopping boards and knives and Sam went into the massive fridge for the vegetables and they worked silently. Something had been bothering Sam._

"_Dylan, who is Conall?" She remembered Roddy saying that he had two children called Ruari, who was Dylan's dad, and Conall. He hadn't mentioned Alistair at all._

"_Alistair." He said simply._

_Mary looked over. "Alistair didn't like his first name, especially when he started working in England. Luckily he had a couple more to chose from, so he just started using Alistair which was one of his middle names. Mr and Mrs Keogh never changed what they called him of course." She watched them work for a moment. "Sam showed me a photo of Jessie and little Millie. She is adorable." Mary said and Dylan shot Sam an inscrutable look. She wondered if she had done something wrong. "I'm glad you keep in touch with her. It's nice to think someone is looking after her. I miss her."_

"_I'll tell her. I'm sure she'll be happy to hear from you. She told me what happened last time she was here. She's probably still afraid to face you." Dylan said, not taking his eyes off the chopping board._

"_Oh that's all in the past. In the grand scheme of things it was only things and money. Nothing important." Mary insisted._

_They helped Mary set the table and bring all the food up for dinner, Caroline and her children appearing halfway through to help which moved things along considerably. Sam felt quite intimidated looking at the table. Her family had always been quite small and a big family dinner such as this was a bit of an unknown to her. She was also not looking forward to seeing Madeleine again as she was sure she would not hold back. Riling each other seemed to be the way the Keoghs' communicated and Sam was not looking forward to it. She had never been one for snide comments or strategic digs. If she had a problem with someone she would tell them and she didn't really understand people who didn't. This was why she had always distrusted Maria. Everything the woman said had to be analysed and examined for some hidden agenda. Sam thought life was too short._

_The sound of the front door opening echoed through the house and Caroline left the room quickly, presumably to talk to Gray. Dylan seemed not to react, but Sam could sense the tension in him as he poured them both a glass of wine. He was obviously expecting fireworks. Sam resolved to do her best so the fireworks didn't come from her. At the same time if his mother tried to walk all over him like she had done earlier she would have Sam to deal with._

_They all sat down to dinner in a mostly subdued mood. The children seemed unsure how to act, as if they couldn't quite believe it was real. Dylan's cousin Ethan, who was an older teenager, looked as if he was quite upset and trying to hide it. There was little conversation at first, although Madeleine did remark on how odd it was to have such a full house. Dylan politely asked after Lydia and Alistair told him she was well and that she was away but that he had informed her of his fathers death and she was coming back. Ethan rolled his eyes at that and Alistair gave him a stern look. _

_The family, led by Madeleine began to discuss arrangements for the funeral and Sam kept silent, not failing to notice Dylan did the same. _

"_You've been very quiet darling? Anything to add?" Madeleine addressed Dylan._

"_No."_

"_It's good he got to see you at least once before he died. You were very lucky he actually knew who you were." Madeleine said and Sam got the sense she was laying her trap and Dylan was doing his best not to fall into it.  
_

"_Yes."_

"_Gray tells me you've become a consultant Dylan. Congratulations."_

"_Thank you." Dylan said, clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop. _

"_I suppose we should congratulate you on your marriage too. And it was so nice Roddy got to meet you Samantha, even before I did. I'm sure you added a bit of glamour to his day."_

"_Thank you" Sam said when it seemed like Dylan wasn't going to respond, wondering what Madeleine was implying. _

"_Gray tells me you are also a doctor, albeit a more junior one than Dylan? When I first saw you I thought you looked too young to be a doctor I'm afraid."_

"_Well I'm doing my second post registration year at the moment." She said, ignoring the question of her age._

"_Ah. And what field do you want to specialise in?"_

"_Emergency Medicine like Dylan."_

"_That must be nice. Do you work at the same hospital? Or is that not allowed?"_

"_I'm in the army so I have a lot of different placements. My last placement was in the hospital where Dylan works. The next one is Afghanistan." All heads at the table turned to look at Sam._

_Madeleine looked disconcerted for a moment. Sam sensed she had put her off her stride._

"_Gray mentioned you are in the army. Surely you're too junior too go abroad yet?"_

"_No. I'm still training, but a doctor never stops training. I'm perfectly able to contribute. My ultimate goal is to get out on a medical emergency response team that goes out in a helicopter to assess and bring back casualties."_

"_Well. That sounds very exciting and dangerous. Am I to assume I shouldn't expect to become a grandmother again soon?"_

"_Mum." Dylan finally spoke in a warning tone._

"_We've haven't been married six months. There's no rush." Sam replied, a little startled to be asked that straight out._

_Madeleine didn't respond and the conversation moved on. Sam hoped she had got through the worst of it._

* * *

Holby, 2012

The phone rang and Sam regarded it with warily. She hadn't used the phone yet and she was getting along well enough in her daily life so far that she seemed to have mostly learned to compensate for her difficulty hearing certain levels of sound but the phone was another ballgame entirely. There would be no watching people's lips or body language. It would be carefully listening to the sound and Sam was unsure she wanted to know entirely how difficult her life would be if she lost the ability to talk on the phone.

The phone was still ringing and she steeled herself and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Can I speak to Major Nicholls please?" Sam relaxed, the person on the other end of the phone had a voice like a drill sergeant. God she loved the army.

"This is Major Nicholls." She answered smartly.

"Ah good. Further to your medical on Wednesday, we have received the results of the blood test and there's something in the results you need to be informed of." The voice on the other end was matter of fact, but Sam sat down heavily. Her mind raced, what could it be? Perhaps she was a little anaemic, that was not unusual after surgery.

"What did the results show?" She asked, calmly, hoping it was something inconsequential. The last thing she needed was something else to go wrong.

"You're pregnant Major. Congratulations." Sam was glad she was sitting down. She breathed out quickly.

"Ah….Sorry?" She said, her brain failing to process this in spectacular fashion.

"You're pregnant. Obviously since you are receiving a medical discharge for injuries received in theatre this won't affect that and I would advise you to have this confirmed by your general practioner as soon as possible as you'll be under the care of a civilian doctor. Alright?"

"Er, yes." Sam said and the person on the other end hung up, having said all they were going to say.

She sat there with the dead phone in her hand. "Oh my god." She said to herself, shell shocked.

No. No, this was not possible. It was completely not possible. She could not be pregnant. Determined she got up, grabbed her purse, phone and keys and did what any other sensible woman would do in the same situation. She went to the nearest pharmacy and bought every kind of pregnancy testing kit known to womankind. The girl on the till in Boots looked like she had seen it all before and actually gave Sam a sympathetic smile, which she ignored, focusing valiantly on trying to contain her panic.

She went through every single one of them as Dervla stationed herself outside the bathroom door, confused as to why she had not yet had her morning walk. Finally she sunk down on the toilet seat, clutching the last and most high tech of the pregnancy tests.

Pregnant 1-2 weeks it said in clear writing.

How the hell? She had been on the pill. Sam thought hard, except she hadn't been, not when she was in hospital, and then there had been that day when she had been really sick…. she let out a groan and put her head in her hands. She was a doctor. This was so embarrassing. She couldn't believe it. She didn't feel any different really. A baby, she was having a baby. She couldn't help the slight smile that came to her face at that thought. She went to her pocket for her phone to call Dylan but something stopped her.

Dylan had told her no when she brought up the subject. He had made it quite clear he didn't think it was a good idea. They had never really spent a lot of time talking about children but Sam was sure in the early part of their marriage he had wanted them. Time had passed since then and so much had happened. What if he had changed his mind? Her heart sunk, he had told her no and she was suddenly, accidentally pregnant? He was going to think she had done this on purpose. He was going to be so angry. Sam slammed her hand against the bathroom wall. How had she been so stupid? This could wreck everything. What was she going to do? Sam looked around at the whirlwind mess she had made of the bathroom, packaging everywhere. First thing was first she would have to make sure these disappeared. She kept one and placed it where Dylan wouldn't look, in her otherwise empty toiletry bag at the back of the airing cupboard. She got rid of the others and set off for Dervla's walk still feeling sick at the thought of what he would say.

Perhaps she should keep quiet for now. After all it was still very early, Sam was well aware of the statistics and she didn't want to wreck her relationship and then find out there was no baby. She didn't even really feel pregnant yet. There was no rush. Maybe she could sound out Dylan again; maybe he would change his mind? She refused to contemplate the other option. She had longed to have a child with Dylan in the past and though she had given up that dream when things had disintegrated between them she couldn't imagine ending the pregnancy, even if she was in a bit of a mess. It was hardly the baby's fault. She sighed; it was her fault, like everything else.

Sam suddenly realised with a jolt she had gone half the morning without thinking about what had happened in Afghan. A mixture of guilt and relief washed over her. She was here, walking around happily, with a husband who loved her and a baby on the way and two of her team were dead. Johnny would never get the chance to be a dad and teach his son or daughter to play football like she knew he would have. And Sarah would never get the chance to see Jamie again or give him a little brother or sister. Worst of all Sam had lost her mother when she was younger and she knew the complete agony that Jamie was probably going through now as his little world was ripped apart. Even Sergeant Jones although he was out of immediate danger now faced a long and painful rehabilitation and a fight to come to terms with what he had lost.

But through it all there was hope too, that she now had a reason and a purpose to pull herself together. She couldn't keep going over it and over it. Her baby deserved a mother that was whole and able to be there for her. Sam knew however that it was easier said than done. She couldn't help thinking that Dylan would be the first to say that she wasn't up to it.

* * *

That night she went to take her spot on the sofa to go to sleep and was surprised when Dylan, carrying a pillow, came into the living room too. He also put his pillow on the sofa.

"What are you doing?" She asked shortly certain he was up to something.

"I'm not leaving you alone at night again. If you're sleeping in here so am I." He said firmly.

Sam gave him an exasperated look. "I'm sleeping in here for a reason Dylan. It's not a whim. I don't want to hurt you. Please just go back into the bedroom."

"No." He said with a hint of smugness in his tone.

"Fine. Then I'll sleep in the bedroom and you can sleep out here." She said wanting to wipe the smirk off his face.

"No." Dylan said simply

"Please Dylan." She said, tired and unwilling to enter into a physical game of musical beds with him.

"No. You were blown up and had neurosurgery four weeks ago. You are not sleeping on the sofa and you are not sleeping alone!" He said and Sam could tell he had made up his mind. Sam would go toe to toe with Dylan on most things, but he could out stubborn her every day of the week and they both knew it. It was one of his more annoying talents.

"Don't try and wake me up again." She said and stalked off into the bedroom, grabbing her pillow as she went.

She lay there determined not to try and fall asleep. Unfortunately she felt herself start to drift and her last thoughts were of trying to control herself when she woke up.

She snapped awake feeling the now familiar emptiness. She took a deep breath in and tried valiantly to replace the images that felt like they were burnt into her eyes but nothing seemed to work. She looked over at Dylan and saw he was awake, just watching her.

She tried to speak but to her shame felt like she was about to cry instead. Dylan reached down and took her hand and it sent her over the edge. She rolled towards him and buried herself in his side, trying to make herself as small as possible. She was a Major in the British army and she was crying like a little girl. Dylan rested his hand on her back and she forced herself to think of him instead of Sarah and Johnny. She was sure that their colleagues at the E.D. thought he was not good at expressing his emotions but while that may be true verbally; he could make her feel better with a single touch of his hand. She wiped away her tears and looked up at him silently. Tracing her fingers softly down the side of his face.

"I love you." She said softly.

He gazed back at her in the dim light from the bedside lamp. "I love you too."

* * *

"I'm going to see if I can get a few days off."

"Oh? Why?" Sam said absently, putting some banana on her toast.

"I..." The phone rang. Sam looked at it. She went back to her breakfast. Dylan regarded her intently.

"Are you going to answer that?"

"Nope. Why don't you?" She said easily.

"Because I have yet to see you answer the telephone and I'd like to know you have the confidence to cope with it."

"It's not confidence I lack. And I answered the phone yesterday." Sam pointed out.

"Really? To who?" Dylan said with interest.

Sam realised what she had just said. "Just the army confirming something."

"Sam, just give it a try."

She looked again at the phone. She huffed and got up and picked up the handset, pressing the button as she did so.

"Keogh." She said unconsciously echoing her husband's phone manner.

Sam listened as hard as she could but all she could make out was that there was someone on the other side.

"Sorry?" She said, hoping it would make the person repeat themselves. If anything it made it worse. She held it out to Dylan in frustration and he listened for a moment before hanging up without ceremony.

She sat down at the table, feeling suddenly sick. All the little things she had taken for granted people do over the phone and she couldn't do it. How was she supposed to refer people in work, or phone the gas company when they overcharged her or... she closed her eyes as she realised her son or daughter would never be able to phone her to tell her what they were doing or where they were. What the hell was she thinking, having a baby? She was going to be useless. What was she going to do? This was such a mess, the latest in a long line she had caused.

"It was an exceptionally bad line." Dylan said.

"I don't believe you." She said barely containing her anger.

"I need to go or I'll be late." He said, dismissing her.

Sam was so frustrated at herself she picked up the empty glass in front of her and threw it at the wall. It shattered, and with it her anger. She stared at the pieces now littering the floor, breathing deeply, like she had just been for a run. This wasn't her, this was wrong. She felt wrong. Dylan was like a statue, facing away from her and she knew she had scared him.

"Dylan…" He didn't turn to face her.

"I have to go to work. Clean that up before Dervla stands on it." He shot at her without looking back.

Sam cleaned up the glass, tears falling silently to mix with the glass shards on their floor. She shut the door on Dervla and vacuumed just to make sure she had got all the glass, the last thing she wanted was to hurt the daft little dog. She thought about her baby, her and Dylan's baby that was safe inside her at this very moment. She had to tell him. He would be horrified and he would blame her, but she knew he had a right to know. Sam had never imagined it would be like this, discovering she was pregnant. She had imagined her and Dylan would be sorted, with a nice house and room for a nursery. She would have a stable job and would have told Dylan with a big smile on her face, and he would have been so happy, she knew he had wanted children before. Instead she kept putting off telling him because at this moment Sam knew she wasn't fit to be a mother. Instead of being excited she was dreading it. He was going to be so angry and she deserved it. She deserved it all.

* * *

Dylan got into the jeep. His hands were still shaking. He went into the glove compartment and pulled out a handy tissue. He wiped away the blood from his cheek and cursed. There was a piece of glass still in there. He was going to have to get someone to get it out. This couldn't go on. He had just about reached his limit. He needed to talk to Sam properly. They needed to do something, anything to try and fix this.

He got to the hospital and sat in the jeep trying to figure out what to do. He didn't want to answer any questions. He should have just gone to St James but it was very minor and he would have been waiting for hours and he couldn't be late to work. He would just have to brazen it out. He walked into the E.D. quickly and made it to the staffroom without meeting anyone. He put his bag and coat in his locker and grabbed his pager and stethoscope. He tried to work out his strategy. He could get that new nurse, whatshisname, Finnegan to do it. He would be sufficiently intimidated not to question him overly. He could probably make do with Lloyd as well, Dylan knew he didn't particularly like him and would not want to pry. The worse case scenario was either Charlie or Tess; they would read him like a particularly short book.

He left the staffroom, going straight to cubicles where Lloyd or Finnegan would probably be working if they were on shift. He was so busy looking for them he almost walked into Tess.

"Dr Keogh." She said annoyed, before catching sight of his laceration.

"How did you do that?" She said with concern

"Er… walking Dervla, there was glass." Dylan said, cursing that he was such a hopeless liar. He would have made a useless lawyer; he wished his mother had known that, it would have saved him a lot of bother.

"Come into cubicle three and I'll have a look at it." Dylan followed hesitantly, just spotting Finnegan and cursing his bad luck at not getting to him first.

"Take a seat." Tess said, donning her gloves. She peered at the wound.

"I'm afraid it looks like there's some glass still in there. I'll have to take it out."

"Right, well let's get on with it then." He said, feeling very uncomfortable.

"So you were walking the dog." Tess said as she worked.

"Yes" Dylan said, trying to say as little as possible.

"Did you fall over?"

"No."

"No other injuries?" She questioned.

"Just the glass." Dylan said firmly

"Do you think I was born yesterday Dylan?" She said in the same gentle tone she had used on him when she had told him she was there if he wanted to talk.

"I don't know what you mean." Dylan said thinking perhaps he should have just dug out the glass himself.

"How is Sam doing?" She asked

"Why are you asking about Sam? Fine. She's fine." Dylan cursed internally.

Tess regarded him, her expression concerned. "Did Sam do this?"

"No. Well yes but it was an accident. She smashed a glass and a shard flew up."

"How is she doing?"

"I believe I said she was fine." He said, knowing he was coming across as properly on guard now, but unable to stop himself.

"Dylan, it's not a sign of weakness to want someone to talk to about Sam."

"What do you want me to say Tess? That I don't recognise her sometimes? That she feels responsible for what happened to her team? That she wakes up sobbing and I can't help her?" Dylan hissed at her angrily and then stared at her aghast. He had not meant to tell her that at all. He got up and walked out of the cubicle angrily, picking up a piece of gauze as he went to put against his wound.

"Dylan." Tess ran after him and caught his arm. He could see Lloyd and Tom watching them out of the corner of his eye and he glared at them.

"Come back and let me finish okay? Then you can get back to work." Dylan knew he was being humoured but he couldn't walk around with this bleeding all day. It would be unprofessional as well as an infection control risk.

He stalked back towards the cubicle, Tess following him.

He sat down again, trying to get himself back under control. It was done; he had said it out loud and there was no going back.

"What am I supposed to do?" He said finally.

Tess sat next to him on the bed. "Has she talked about it?"

"A little. She told me what happened with the bomber." Dylan said, feeling glad he at least understood that much.

"Has she told you how she's feeling?" Tess said. Dylan's stomach dropped. Sam had described exactly what had happened to him. Everything except how she felt.

"No."

"Perhaps you should ask her. You never know, she might just tell you and it might help you understand what she's going through more."

"I'm not very good at that sort of thing."

"Just by asking her you'll be telling her you care."

He looked at Tess sharply. "She knows that I care."

"Of course she does. But she obviously needs someone to talk to. Anybody would. My advice would be to give it a go. It'll be up to her whether she takes you up on it or not."

Dylan nodded and Tess began to walk away. He jumped up off the bed. "Tess." She turned back towards him. "Thank you."

He left the cubicle to start work, feeling like he at least had an idea of how he could deal with going home tonight.

* * *

Sam spent her day on the sofa, lacking the motivation and energy for anything except watching TV. She watched every type of rubbish daytime TV available and finally settled on the BBC news channel letting the constant stream of reports wash over her. The odd disconnected feeling she had suffered from in the hospital was back and it was as if the flash of emotion she had felt this morning had drained her emotional capacity for the day. She felt like she was just a shell and the real Sam, who was normal and happy and energetic had walked away and she was all that was left. She knew she had to stop taking it out on Dylan. He was the only one on her side, he was being great and she was a complete nightmare.

She didn't know how to stop being like this. She was also beginning to feel a little nauseous again. She knew she should probably inform her neurologist that she was pregnant as pregnancy symptoms could mask the symptoms of something being really wrong but she was unwilling to tell Dr Sidoli anything Dylan didn't know. She didn't seem very trustworthy to Sam. She was also embarrassed; it was a really bad idea becoming pregnant so soon after a craniotomy and Sam honestly thought it wouldn't have been possible. She was lucky that she had stopped taking the medication that would have been very harmful to a developing baby very quickly.

In the afternoon she forced herself to go to the shop for food. She looked in the mirror before she left and her face was pale and drawn and she had dark circles under her eyes. Sam found an old baseball cap of Dylan's in the coat cupboard and put that on, not bothering to hide her patch of missing hair properly.

She cooked a meal ready for Dylan to come home. As a sort of apology it was stir fry, which was as close to takeaway Chinese food as she was willing to go. He was a little late. He came in through the door and took off his coat facing away from her.

"I made stir fry." She offered.

He was silent. "Dylan…" He turned around and Sam gasped. There was a small steri-stripped laceration on his cheek.

"What happened?" She asked him, catching him by the arm and taking a good look at it.

"You know, bad day" He said dead pan, not making eye contact.

"Was it a patient? What happened?"

"It's nothing Sam. Just leave it will you?" Sam had a horrible thought. She dropped his arm in horror and stepped back, covering her mouth with her hands.

"I did this, didn't I?" He didn't meet her eyes and she felt the background nausea that had been laying in wait all day rise up and she rushed over to the sink to vomit.

"Sam, it was an accident." Dylan said, sounding alarmed at her reaction.

She leaned over the sink, keeping her head bowed, trying to control herself. "I hurt you." She choked out, unsure why Dylan was trying to reassure her.

"It was an accident." He repeated gently, placing his hand on her back.

The display of affection made her feel worse. He was taking all she threw at him and she didn't know how to stop doing this, stop being like this. She sprang away from him and decided to leave, she needed to think, to clear her head, she wasn't safe to be around him. He didn't understand who she really was.

"Where are you going?" Dylan followed her, looking increasingly worried.

"Out."

"Sam you're not wearing any shoes. Sam don't be ridiculous." He ran after her as she took off up the gang plank and caught her easily, catching her around her waist and turning her around, both of them now getting a soaking in the torrential rain that had been falling on and off all day.

"Please Sam. Look, your immune system can't cope with this at the moment. Let's go in and dry off?" Sam vaguely registered he was talking to her in a tone he had never used with her before, the tone he used to calm down irrational patients.

"It doesn't matter." She said numbly, not fighting his hold on her.

"Don't you dare say that! I didn't nearly lose you in that godforsaken place to lose you here instead." He sounded angry now and it forced her into speaking.

She couldn't look at him. "I'm not right Dylan. Everything feels wrong and everything I do I hurt you. I can't go on like this. You deserve better, you didn't sign up for this. I'm not the same as I was."

"No." Dylan said firmly. "Don't you dare try and walk away, because I won't let you. Last time I didn't fight for you and I won't make that mistake again. You may not be okay but you're still you. You're still my Sam. I'm not giving up."

She finally met his eyes "You don't understand Dylan. I killed someone. I was trained to kill and I killed someone and he didn't deserve it and the other night I used that training on you and I could have ….." She couldn't physically complete that sentence but she saw he realised what she was trying to say.

Sam was under no illusions. She was a killer, she had received effective training to that goal and she had actually pulled the trigger on one occasion, ending a man's life. To think she could turn that training onto Dylan without realising it was horrifying, the single most terrifying thing she had ever done.

He bundled her back inside the boat and she didn't resist, feeling like all the fight had gone out of her. He let her go and she stumbled blindly down the steps into the living room, sinking down onto the sofa. He placed the throw around her shoulders and she realised she was shivering.

"You were right. When you said after the GMC hearing that I would have just brushed it off with a dry comment, you were right. But I'm listening now. You can talk to me." He said it clumsily and self consciously but with real honesty in his voice.

She turned her gaze towards him in amazement, taking a moment to digest this.

"Sometimes I feel fine. Sometimes I feel like I'm in a dark pit and there's no way out. Sometimes I feel so empty it hurts. I'm angry, confused, happy, sad, guilty and I don't feel like me and its so scary Dylan. But I always love you and I don't want to hurt you ever again."

"It's alright, Sam. The only way you could hurt me would be if you give up now." He said quietly.

"I'm not giving up! Since when have you known me to quit?" Sam said with irritation.

"That's all I ask." He said and Sam realised he had just made her admit something to herself which she had been missing all this time. She would never give up trying to make things right. She knew that about herself. She felt her determination rise. She would get better. It crossed her mind to tell Dylan about her pregnancy but she dismissed it quickly. She needed to make a bit more progress before she dropped that particular bombshell. She imagined him with their child and the thought made her smile.

She hugged him. "Thank you grumpy."

He held onto her steadily. "Oh shut up." He murmured, seeming suddenly embarrassed and that made her smile harder.

* * *

_Waterford, 2009_

_Sam had left her textbook in the study and went to get it, knowing she needed to revise a chapter before bed. She opened the door and was instantly on her guard, seeing Madeleine putting something away in the desk._

"_Can I help you?" Dylan's mother said coldly._

"_I just came to get my book." Sam explained, picking it up and aiming for the exit._

"_He doesn't like to be alone you know."_

_Sam turned back, confused at the digression. "Dylan? He's not alone."_

"_Is it really fair? To leave him for six months at a time to go off to some dusty foreign country?"_

_Sam bristled. "I really don't think it's any of your business."_

"_He's my son." Madeleine said coldly._

"_You have a funny way of showing it. Family isn't supposed to be always looking for a weakness, a way to hurt." Sam knew she was going too far but felt it needed saying and god knows Dylan would never say it._

"_What do you know about family? As far as I can see you are denying Dylan a proper family."_

_Sam raised her eyebrows. "That's between Dylan and me. But delaying isn't the same as denying. _

"_Oh yes? Dylan is thirty three. His father was forty three when he died. You think you have all the time in the world, but life isn't always like that."_

"_Dylan respects my decision." Sam said but she felt sick inside at the thought._

"_You really think so? One thing perhaps you haven't learned about Dylan yet. He doesn't forgive and he doesn't forget. Make one mistake and that's it. He'll never forgive you, not matter how much you try and make it up to him" Madeleine said bitterly, obviously talking about herself._

"_One mistake? A little girl died! How can you make up for that?" Sam responded incredulously._

_Madeleine regarded her for a long moment and seemed to come to some decision. "I tried. I never touched a drop of alcohol ever again. Dylan's father had only been gone six months. I was barely coping at the time. But he could never forgive. I tried to comfort her, I stayed with her. I would never have locked that door if I had known what would happen."_

"_That isn't why he has never forgiven you." Sam knew this without Dylan really explaining it._

_Madeleine frowned. "What do you know about it? I can't believe he even told you what happened."_

"_He trusts me." Sam went to walk away but something made her turn back. "It was what you did after. Telling Gray to unlock the door and take the key while Camilla lay there dying. He couldn't forgive that." _

_Madeleine's face was grey and she stared at Sam silently seemingly speechless. Sam felt perhaps she had said too much and left her, clutching the textbook to her and wondering what the repercussions would be, cursing herself for getting involved. She knew Dylan wouldn't thank her for it. _


	18. Chapter 18

The Damage We Do – Chapter 18

Yeah, so I lied when I said this chapter would be shorter. I tried, but it seems I now am incapable of writing a chapter under 10000 words. If only my uni essays came out with the same ease!

I don't own the Casualty storyline of the Holby Riots episodes which I have used in this chapter and adapted for my own ends. I haven't spent too much time on events that were shown in the episode as you guys have only just seen it and I didn't want to bore you!

Now might be a good time to reiterate I don't own Casualty or the characters and I'm also not an A & E doc or an army expert. Also, I quite enjoy Waterloo Road but Dylan seems to disagree.

On a more serious subject, this story has gone into some difficult areas. So for Keri's Rich and Jodie's mate yesterday, sleep tight guys. You will never be forgotten. And Jodie, you will never read this, but I'm glad you're home safe.

* * *

Holby, 2012

The next morning Dylan seemed quite reluctant to leave her, but Sam assured him she would be fine and he seemed reassured by the fact she was all dressed and ready to walk Dervla by the time he was ready to go. They went in separate directions, Dylan to his jeep and Sam towards the bus stop with Dervla. She had decided she needed to get out of Holby and bet that Dervla would appreciate a change from their normal city centre park. Sam wanted to be somewhere more wild and interesting. The park was also fairly well used and Sam fancied a bit of solitude after her heavy day yesterday.

She got off the bus near a national trust trail and after checking the times of the buses home, set off, feeling like a physical challenge was just what she needed. She was careful to take the hills slowly, the memory of her disastrous run a few weeks ago still standing out in her memory. She wondered if it had been that bout of illness that had allowed the contraceptive pill levels in her body to get low enough to allow a pregnancy. If so it was all down to her own stubbornness at wanting to run, which was amusing in an ironic sort of way. She shook herself at the thought of her pregnancy, it was still very early and getting attached would be a mistake, she told herself sternly.

She came to a gap in the trees and saw she had climbed quite high along the dirt paths. The view was amazing; Holby was laid out before her like a distant patchwork of toy buildings. The sunlight was falling in patches through the clouds, shining randomly on odd patches of land. She stood there and contemplated it. Just being out here and doing something she felt a lot better. Perhaps that was the answer; after all she was never normally idle. She had not been feeling like herself and she had made it even worse by not behaving like herself, crying like a little girl and watching daytime TV like she had nothing better to do. She still had to finish sorting out her flat, move out properly and then she had to find room in the boat for all her possessions. She also had to get the all clear to drive from her neurologist, get cleared to work and find another job.

Safe in the open space and solitude she allowed herself to think about what had happened in Afghanistan. It still didn't make sense to her. She decided she was tired of waiting for answers and tired of waiting for her father to throw her a crumb of attention or affection. He knew something about what had happened, she was sure of it. She needed to know just what was going on, to allow herself to move on. She also needed to go to Birmingham, to see Sergeant Jones. It had never sat right with her that she had just left him there without even speaking to him, especially after he had saved her life. She realised she had been barely able to keep her eyes open for more than a few hours at the time but she was feeling much better now and there was no longer any excuse.

She pulled out her phone and turned the volume up to maximum. She scrolled down to her father's mobile number and pressed call.

"Sammy. This is a surprise. Is everything alright?" He answered straight away and spoke loudly and Sam was surprised at his presence of mind in dealing with her problem.

"Hi Dad. Everything's fine. I was wondering if I could come up to London, or Hertfordshire to see you? I need to talk to you about what happened in Afghanistan."

There was silence on the end of the line and Sam strained to listen just in case she was missing something.

"Alright. I'll come to you. Is tomorrow alright for you?"

"Yes it's fine." Sam said, a little taken aback he had agreed so easily.

"I'll see you tomorrow evening."

"Thanks Dad."

He hung up and Sam pressed the top of the phone to her mouth in thought. She hoped he could give her some answers.

"Good girl Dervy." She said to the dog who was sniffing a tree stump. "Let's go home, before we miss that bus."

* * *

When Dylan arrived home Sam was clearing out some of the kitchen cupboards. He regarded the controlled chaos with amusement.

"Why have you suddenly taken to cleaning everything that sits still long enough?"

"Because I'm really bored. And some of this stuff expired in the nineties. It wouldn't matter, but you didn't even live here then, and we didn't have any of this stuff in our flat or at The Hollies, so where have you acquired it from?"

Dylan shrugged. "It must have been in the cupboard when I moved in."

Sam shot him a scandalised expression and he couldn't help but laugh. "Please don't tell me you've been eating it?"

"Nooo." Dylan hedged. "I'm sure it was perfectly fine. Tinned food keeps for years. I'm still here anyway." He decided to move on swiftly. "Should I be insulted by the cleaning kick?"

"No. It's just…it's just I've come back here with you and we didn't really discuss it but you're still paying all the bills for this place and I like feeling I've contributed in some way. And all my stuff needs to fit in here somewhere and it needs to be tidy. I'm sorry if it's annoying you."

"You don't have to do that. If you're really bored Linda suggested you take up yoga."

"Yoga." Sam repeated and Dylan felt a bit silly. "So you've been discussing me at work?"

"Are you serious? They seem to have elevated you to sainthood."

"They'll soon get over it if I go back to work at Holby."

"You still want to go back there?"

"As soon as a neurologist clears me."

"You don't want to take some time, come to terms with what's happened?" He said trying to be tactful but thinking she really wasn't ready to go back to work yet.

"Dylan, all I have is time. It's driving me nuts. I'm feeling much better, I've regained my memory, I'm seeing a counsellor regularly, and I feel like I need to get back to normal."

"No neurologist will clear you for work before six weeks after surgery. Annoy them enough and it could be eight."

Sam sighed dramatically. "I'm running out of things to clean."

Dylan shook his head; Sam was like a hyperactive child sometimes. He thought of something and beckoned to her. She followed him curiously to a door she had not opened yet. He opened it with a flourish and pulled out three boxes in a cloud of dust.

"Are these the boxes of my things?" She looked at him expectantly, peering into the gloomy and dusty cupboard distastefully.

"Among other things." Dylan cast his mind back to that awful time. He had packed the boxes away while drunk and upset and he truly had no idea what was in them, even though when Sam had first turned up at Holby he had considered just giving them back to her. He had got as far as opening the first one and had found their wedding album. Just looking at that was painful enough to make him put it back in the box and try and forget he had ever opened it.

Sam opened the box just as he had and brought out the album that had brought him such pain the last time he had opened it. Her face lit up and Dylan congratulated himself for putting a smile on her face.

"Look, it's our wedding album." She opened it happily. "We look so happy." She seemed to grow distant for a moment. "Look how little Millie is! How is Jess doing anyway? I thought you had your own little support network for when Carly and I were deployed?"

"She's okay. She thought we needed some space after what happened. Carly still has three months left out there, not including R & R."

"She should come over for dinner sometime. She's going to think I'm keeping you all to myself. I am, but I can share." She gave him a teasing look and Dylan marvelled at her ability to go from distraught to seemingly carefree in less than twenty four hours. She was amazingly resilient, she had been the same after Asta died, or so it had seemed. It had only been the little moments of remembrance and the nightmares that had showed him truly how affected she had been.

"That would be nice. What else is in there?"

"A wooden box." She pulled it out curiously. "I've never seen it before."

He felt a moment of panic and plucked it quickly out of her hands. "That's…not yours."

She considered him seriously for a moment. "While I'm sure I would find your collection of vintage cricket cufflinks interesting…." She trailed off and Dylan gave her a 'very funny' look. She turned back to the cardboard box, gingerly wiping off their wedding photo that they had always displayed. Under that was every photo they had ever framed, still as they had been when they had separated. Sam pulled them all out.

"We need to take some new photos. Hey, it's that one of the day when we abseiled." Dylan snuck a look at the banner behind them. Parkinson's UK, that was the one. He couldn't believe he had forgotten that.

He looked up to see Sam watching him with amusement. "I knew you couldn't remember which charity it was."

"Excuse me, I… Fine. I only abseiled to impress you. Did it work?"

She tilted her head at him in a wicked way. "Who are you again?"

"If you've forgotten me, I shall have to jog your memory." He moved closer and pulled her up so she was at head height with him. He kissed her slowly and gently and felt her respond.

"Remember me now?" He said pulling away.

"I think I need a longer reminder." She said without a trace of shame and reached for him again.

* * *

_Waterford, Ireland, 2009_

"_Find your book okay?"_

"_Yes, fine." Sam got undressed and joined Dylan sitting on the bed. She considered him carefully for a moment before looking away. His mother was right; she was being selfish by putting her career above everything else. But she had sacrificed opportunities for him too, it wasn't all her not considering his feelings. Her army commitment had a time limit attached and she could only do it while she was still young. She did hate to leave him, and she missed him awfully in Germany, but she was so excited to be going to Afghanistan. She had been planning and working towards this for years, to step back now would be impossible. She had made a commitment before she had met Dylan and he had accepted that even though he had done so reluctantly._

_It was the issue of children that everyone always brought up. It hurt her every time, even though she tried not to let it show. Sam had always wanted children and as soon as she had know Dylan for a few months she had been able to imagine having a family with him, but she wasn't some teenager who had no responsibilities and commitments who could decide she wanted a baby one day and get pregnant tomorrow. Especially when she had been younger, the temptation to do that had been great, to have one person who would be hers and she could love without being made to feel like she shouldn't, or that she was a spare part. But she was older and wiser now and she had a stable job and relationship and there was no reason Dylan and her couldn't have children when her commitment was over in five years time. _

_She did worry about Dylan. It wasn't only that he was nine years older than her, but his father had died very young and although Dylan's grandparents had lived to impressive ages, she still made sure she did her best to curb his natural impulses, which seemed to be to eat rubbish and do no exercise. Dervla was helping with that too, she was used to a daily walk and Sam had no doubt she would find a way of indicating her displeasure if he slacked off too much._

_The way Madeleine had put it, relating Dylan's age to his fathers when he had died had shaken her. She tried to imagine herself in Madeleine's position, having lost her husband so young. It made Sam shudder to even contemplate it. It must have been awful for her. She began to feel a bit of sympathy for her mother in law._

* * *

Holby 2012

Sam waited for her father with a certain level of anxiety. Dylan had taken the news that he was coming without commenting but he seemed surprised, which made Sam quite depressed. He had not realised that Sam had asked her father to come. He had surmised her dad wouldn't have come on his own and Sam reflected he was probably right. Sam had never begrudged her dad his marriage, she would never have said he didn't have the right to find a new partner after her mother died, she just wished he had included her in his new family instead of putting her as a kind of appendix, not quite part of it.

She reminded herself that this wasn't about her confusing paternal relationship; this was about finding out what was going on. He was the resource available to her and she was going to use him. She needed to know what had lain behind the incident in Afghan and he definitely knew something; she was good enough at reading him that she could still figure that out at least.

The bell sounded and she jumped up to answer it, startling Dervla in the process who raced in front of her up the stairs.

"Dad." She said, opening the door.

"Sammy. You look much better." He hugged her and stroked her cheek affectionately before releasing her. He was carrying a rucksack which looked odd with his smart suit.

"Come in. Do you want anything to eat, or a cup of tea or coffee?"

"No thank you. Is Dylan here?" Her father asked, leaning down to pet Dervla briefly.

"Yes. Come and sit down." They went down the stairs to the living room and her father and Dylan shook hands warily, her father sitting down in the chair, undoing his suit jacket as he did so.

"I've read your report Sammy. I'm sorry."

Sam nodded looking away briefly to make sure she had control of her emotions. "Dad I need to know why it happened. It doesn't make sense to me and I think you might know the answers."

"This is an ongoing situation. It will all come out at the inquests, probably."

"I need to know. I nearly died. I feel like I have half the jigsaw and you can give me the missing pieces. Please. Why me? What did I do?"

" Sammy." His tone was reproving. "You didn't do anything."

He sighed and considered her carefully before loosening his tie. "Truthfully it's a bit of a mess. Earlier in the 2011, the army had to pull a medic, a captain, out of Bastion early. There were concerns this young man Adeeb had become obsessed with her. He saw her for some minor injury and then the hospital at Bastion began seeing some patients with odd injuries who all died soon after they arrived." He opened the rucksack and pulled out a folder. He gave her a couple of pictures.

"Did you ever see any injuries like this during your time in Afghanistan?" He watched her carefully.

Dylan looked over her shoulder at the images as she went through them. Sam studied them closely but gave them back, shaking her head. "No. I would have reported anything like this."

"There was concern that there was a killer operating in Afghanistan, unrelated to the war. This captain saw Adeeb again and he scared her. He knew details of the injuries to these patients that were too in depth for local gossip and he seemed a little too interested in her reaction. We pulled her back to Britain and the killings stopped."

"If you thought this man was a serial killer why wasn't he arrested, or stopped?" Dylan asked.

"He's the son of an important man. Afghanistan is a fragile country. We wanted to avoid pulling down any of the house of cards if we could. Many more would have died. Local commanders on the ground thought they had solved the problem." Sam nodded silently, that was what she had suspected after she had submitted the report about the girls school bombing.

"So why me? Why did he want revenge on me? Why did I have to die?" She asked, keeping her voice level.

"We still don't know. We are obviously talking about a disturbed individual. You submitted a report against him on your last tour. Did he realise your suspicions?"

Sam struggled to remember back to that time. "I don't know, I suppose I may have looked at him in a challenging way. That can't be why he targeted me can it? There are lots of female soldiers in Afghan. Why specifically a medic?"

"Look Sam I'm no psychologist but it could have been something as simple as you looked like her, or you did something that reminded him of her, but then, I don't know, you did something he didn't like and he decided he wanted to get rid of you."

"Why did the bomber say it was revenge?" Sam asked, still trying to digest this.

"That we do have an answer to. He sold it to the local Taliban, and let's be fair; they didn't take much convincing, as a lesson to the women of the area. Your work at the girl's school bombing was used as a reason. I think they were hoping for a higher body count."

"They're insane." Dylan said, looking and sounding shocked.

Her father quirked his head in a way that suggested he agreed.

"So what happens now, to Adeeb?"

Now her father looked uncomfortable. "He disappeared. We think he got over the border into Pakistan. We obviously have people looking for him. There's some concern he may come here, which is the only reason I am telling you this. There's no concrete reason he would, except he's obviously cuckoo, and so is correspondingly difficult to predict. I wanted to let you know. If you notice anything out of the ordinary you are to let me know. I wanted to give you this. I wasn't sure if you had yours back yet."

He opened the rucksack and pulled out a locked metal box and Sam knew instantly what it was.

"It's the same model you're used to. Just in case eh Sammy?"

She rose and took the box and the keys off him, "The other officer, where is she now?"

"You don't need to know that, just as she doesn't need to know where you are. Listen Sam, if we have any suspicions at all that this man is in the country, you'll be given protection, you can count on it. I'm on this Sam. You don't need to worry, I promise you."

Sam waited for her father to go before turning to Dylan who seemed a bit shell shocked.

He collapsed on the sofa and Sam stood watching him, trying to get everything straight in her head.

"It wasn't me." She laughed, looking at Dylan who just stared at her like she was crazy. "It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault." Her laughter got worse and she tried to control it but it wasn't really laughter and Dylan seemed to sense this as he stood up and enveloped her in his arms and she held onto him, trying to get control of herself again, all the guilt and confusion she had been feeling wanting to come out. She had her explanation, as sketchy as it was. She won the battle and came back to herself, stepping back and congratulating herself for not crying.

"Sorry. It's just such a relief to know why."

"What's in the box?" Dylan said, trying to distract her.

"Browning 9mil." Sam answered cheerfully.

Dylan looked at her aghast. "He gave you a gun?"

Sam shrugged. "Well yes. He knows I'm competent with it. He taught me to shoot."

"You seem to be taking this awfully well."

"You don't seriously expect this man to turn up at the door do you?" She said incredulously.

"Er, it may just be me, but I take the threat of missing psychopathic killers quite seriously. Hearing one may be after my wife is a little disconcerting, yes. Especially when said wife's father then gives her a gun for protection and buggers off."

Sam picked up her empty cup and climbed the stairs to the kitchen, Dylan on her heels. "It didn't go quite like that."

"How can you be so blasé about this Sam? Do you want to see this man again? For revenge, is that it?"

She looked at him with shock. "No. Of course not. My father said he'll take care of it and I believe him. If worst comes to the worst we'll get some warning and protection. This isn't the first time something like this has happened."

"What do you mean?" Dylan frowned.

"It's not the first problem to follow a British soldier home from Afghan. It's never come to anything before." Sam said, knowing she was treading a fine line between reassurances and revealing things she shouldn't even know.

"How do you know?"

"Dylan, I know okay."

"What, so something like this has happened before?"

"Not to me obviously." Sam said patiently.

"So not only does the army keep you away from your family for long periods of time and have the delightful prospect of serious injury or death, but the crazies from some foreign country can follow you home back to your family. Well, I can see what attracted you to your job, Major." Dylan said, sarcasm on overdrive.

"I hate it when you do that." She said without thinking.

"What?"

"Say my rank with that note of disdain in your voice, like it's something to be ashamed of."

"Yes, because it's my tone of voice that's really the thing causing the concern now isn't it?" He replied sarcastically

"It's not that bad, really." Sam said, trying her best to defuse his worry which was quickly turning into anger with her.

"Not that bad? What planet are you on?" He said with incredulity.

"I can't talk to you when you're like this. I'm going out." Sam said trying to distance herself from the argument.

"When I'm like this? No**. I'm** going out. You stay here where it's safe since you're the number one target of a psychopath. Come on Dervla." He grabbed his coat and Dervla's lead and went out, slamming the door behind him.

Sam sat down at the kitchen table, feeling suddenly deflated.

It was odd somehow to be in the boat alone; she usually always had Dervla to keep her company. It was very quiet and she found her mind working overdrive. This man would either meet some other poor girl who took his fancy or would work against the coalition forces from Pakistan. It was highly unlikely that he would bother coming three thousand miles to knock on her door. She supposed maybe she was being too blasé about it, but by rights she should still be out there in the midst of the action and maybe her calm acceptance of the danger was just her not quite acclimatised to the safety of home yet.

Dylan was frightened, she could tell. That was their first argument since they'd got back together and Dylan had been treating her like spun glass since she'd been released from hospital. For him to actually engage in an argument with her like that he must have really been affected.

Sam now had a bigger problem ahead of her than Dylan shouting at her however. If she thought it would be difficult to tell him she was pregnant before, now it was going to be a thousand times worse. His anger would be magnified by the simple realisation that not only had she put him in danger by bringing her work home, but she had also placed their baby in the line of fire. She had to tell him soon though. Sherlock Holmes of medicine might be stretching it a bit far, but she had no illusion Dylan would put the pieces together very quickly as the physiological changes in her body progressed and the last thing she wanted was for him to think she had been lying to him in someway. Sam didn't consider keeping it from him at the moment as lying, more as her trying desperately to figure out how to tell him in a way which didn't mean he ended up divorcing her on the spot.

* * *

Dylan walked away from the houseboat, Dervla trotting ahead in front of him. He walked briskly, trying to come to terms with what he had just heard. Dylan had previous experience with a mentally ill person who had become obsessed with him and it had ended with one of his colleagues paying the price due to his mishandling of the situation. Polly had been a young paramedic on her last day on the job who had just wanted him to listen to a patient and his failure to do that had ended with her death. Just thinking about Polly he could picture the scene in resus, Mr Jordan trying desperately to do everything possible to save her life while Jay, Jeff and Dixie who had been her friends looked on in horror. He had just stood there, unable to believe that once again someone had died because he was clueless about the emotions of the people around him.

To hear that someone had become obsessed with Sam in the same way, to the extent they had actually tried to kill her was horrifying and he didn't think Sam really understood it properly. She had not stood close to a disturbed individual as they brandished a knife and tried to tell you it was all your fault they had stabbed your colleague. She didn't understand the lengths they would go to and in Dylan's mind travelling three thousand miles wasn't that much of a stretch. The trouble was Sam still regarded this man as a threat she had faced in Afghan with the support of a Chinook, ten burly men and at least two guns each. But this was Britain and even the police didn't carry guns routinely. If this man decided he wanted Sam dead here and now, it was out of Dylan's control to stop him. It was this knowledge that made him feel sick inside and he didn't know how to convince Sam that this was serious. He wondered if she was just in denial, if she had faced all she could take and she was unwilling and unable to take on this new problem. He marvelled again at her resilience, he was sure if he was in her position he would be halfway towards the bottom of the bottle by now. Truth be told that didn't sound like a bad place to be.

* * *

Sam waited on the sofa for Dylan to return from his walk. She felt herself dropping off but didn't want to go to bed before she had talked to him. She was more unsettled than she should have been by the argument. She didn't want to admit it was because she was still feeling off balance after everything she had been through. Nevertheless she now felt better, like she was finally getting the answers she had wanted. She hoped maybe she wouldn't see the bombing in her dreams again tonight but she didn't seriously believe that. She couldn't remember what it was like to have a good night's sleep. She laughed to herself, that was what most people said to expectant mothers, 'get a good night's sleep now, you won't have many when the baby's born'. She would consider smacking the first idiot who said that to her as it was her dearest wish at the moment.

She saw Dylan coming down the stairs and sat up abruptly, waking herself up with the movement. She got up and stood in front of him, waiting for him to speak and give her some indication of whether this was still an argument or if they could move on. She hoped they could move on, there was little either of them could do to change the situation.

He regarded her solemnly and he seemed to be coming to some decision as he dropped down next to her recently vacated spot on the sofa. Sam sat down again too, unsure of how to talk about this.

"I need you to promise me you'll be sensible. It's not your job to jump into danger anymore. Another head injury could be fatal Sam." He studied her carefully. "If you even suspect this man is around, if you get a feeling, or if anything is out of place, that's it. We are on the next plane to Mexico. I mean it Sam. It's not worth it." He seemed to be trying to convince her.

Sam wanted to tell him. "Dylan, I… I promise not to put myself in danger." She couldn't tell him, but the thought of Adeeb getting anywhere near their baby made her skin crawl.

He was still studying her intensely. He seemed surprised she had given in so quickly. So was she actually. She hoped she could live up to her promise. She was used to acting in the moment and asking questions later, running towards trouble instead of away from it. He was right. Another head injury or any type of injury was the last thing she needed.

"Mexico?" She asked with amusement, trying to lighten the mood.

He seized on her attempt quickly. "I liked Mexico. The turtles were cute."

* * *

_Waterford, Ireland, 2009_

_Sam looked out of the window doubtfully. "Are you sure it will be okay? I don't want to be disrespectful."_

_Dylan snorted. "If he were here and saw this weather he would have pushed you out of the door himself. When the weather's good you take advantage of it. Anyway, it's not as though either of us is welcome helping with the planning. But we can always say we'll take the children out of the way. I'm sure they will appreciate that."_

"_The children barely know us." Sam reminded him._

"_It doesn't take a deep and meaningful relationship to stop the little brat's drowning or burying each other in the sand."_

"_They seemed quite well behaved last night." Sam said and Dylan laughed._

"_Just you wait." He said knowingly._

_Having cleared it with Gray and Caroline and collected the two children and been joined by Ethan, who seemed to have little inclination to stay around the house they trooped down a well worn path toward the cliff. Sam still couldn't quite believe there was a beach down there. They reached the edge and she could see there were some wide well worn looking concrete steps. _

_At the bottom lay a small sandy area surrounded by the rock of the cliffs on both sides of the cove. The sea washed gently against the beach and was a beautiful sparkling blue in the sunlight. The steps were steep but Clara and Matthew bounded down them like they had been doing it all their lives and Sam followed them. It was not quite surfing but it would have to do. Mary had said she would come down later and bring them some lunch if it was still nice. Sam suspected she just wanted an excuse to get away from the house._

"_Uncle Dylan, Auntie Sam can we go in the sea?" Clara asked eagerly. Matthew was already stripping off in anticipation. Dylan laid down his towel and Sam was left to answer._

"_Yes. Don't go out too far though." She said, feeling odd at being the person in authority over them when she had just met them._

_Ethan went straight back to the steep steps and climbed up a couple before reaching behind a rock and bringing out a sun bleached plastic ball which was obviously a permanent resident. He also seemed to be heading to the water._

_Sam set down her towel next to Dylan's and quirked an eyebrow at him._

"_Come on then." He said and they both stripped off._

"_It'll be cold." He warned her gleefully. "It's best to just get it over with."_

"_I can take it." She said but took his hand as he offered and realised what he had in mind at once. He started running and she was pulled along with him as they reached the water's edge. The water was warm in the shallows but very quickly they were into the cold part and Sam couldn't help letting out a yelp at the coldness of the water. There was worse to come as Dylan pulled her close, held onto her tightly and ducked them both under the water. Sam screamed as she came, up, it was so cold she couldn't breathe and she hit him on the arm to get him to release her._

_She stood there dripping; now feeling that the water was a pleasant temperature. "You can already surf, can't you?" She said, realising she had underestimated him._

"_A little." He said grinning._

"_Then why did you let me go on and on about it and try to persuade you?"_

"_Well I was going to give in eventually and you were going to be very grateful." He said smugly._

_He picked her up and spun her around and she laughed happily, shaking her head at his sneakiness. The big plastic ball sailed past them, narrowly avoiding missing Dylan's head. Sam looked back at Matthew and realised by his disappointed expression it had been meant to hit._

"_Are you going to play with us?" He asked hopefully._

_Sam looked at Dylan and he sighed theatrically. "I suppose we could." Matthew whooped excitedly. _

_Ethan came to stand next to Dylan and Sam sensed he wanted to say something so organised Clara and Matthew into a game of piggy in the middle. She kept an eye on Dylan and Ethan. "Mary said you've seen my sister." Ethan said and Sam was careful not to show she was watching._

"_Yes. I keep in touch with Jess." Dylan considered his younger cousin. "You're an uncle now. She has a little girl. She's a year or so old."_

"_Would you give me her address?" He asked, seeming to be trying to act older than he was._

"_What about your parents?" Dylan asked, but Sam was sure he would do as Ethan asked. He didn't really care about what Alistair and Lydia wanted. Indeed Sam had seen he avoided Lydia completely, whether it was because he couldn't be bothered with her or feared losing his temper Sam couldn't quite tell. _

"_They made their choice. But they aren't making the decision for me. I'm old enough now to realised that she's still my sister, whatever she used to do." Dylan nodded, accepting this._

"_I'm sure she'll be glad to hear from you."_

* * *

__Holby, 2012

Dylan came home the next night to a very enthusiastic and unexpected welcome from a very full of beans Millie.

"Hello Monkey! I wasn't expecting you?" He swung her up in the air like he always did.

"Mummy brought me because my babysitter's daughters gone all spotty like a chicken." Dylan smiled at her way of putting it.

"She has chickenpox and Jess couldn't find another babysitter at such short notice. She has a big concert tonight apparently." Sam put in, turning off something that was bubbling away on the hob.

"I'm on my best behaviour because Auntie Sam had an operation on her head." She told Dylan seriously and he caught Sam smiling out of the corner of his eye. "She still played with me though. We built a den! Do you want to see?" Millie squirmed to be put down and grabbed his hand and pulled him through the kitchen and down the stairs into the living room.

In the middle of the room was a weird sort of tent made out of a chair from the kitchen and the chair and sofa that had occupied the living room already. All the cushions were off the sofa and it seemed like half the contents of the airing cupboard were draped across the chairs to create a roof. Millie dragged Dylan in through a cleverly disguised opening and he crawled after her, being reunited with his sofa cushions in the process. Millie switched on a torch that had been abandoned in there and Dylan did his best not to collapse the den, conscious he was considerably larger than Sam, who had previously sat in his space.

"This is the castle and the carpet is the sea and we have to save people from the sea. We have to save Auntie Sam, she'll drown Uncle Dylan!"

If anyone had asked Dylan what he would be doing with his evening this would not have made the list of possibilities. Oh well, if he was going to do it he should do it properly. "Okay. If I hold onto your legs you can reach out and grab Auntie Sam and bring her in." He said, sure 'Auntie Sam' would appreciate being dragged about like a sack of spuds.

"But what if the pirates come?" Millie asked seriously.

"We'll have to call our pet sea monster." He said, thinking quickly.

"I don't have a pet sea monster." Millie said, interested.

"I do, she's called Dervla and she's a very nice sea monster, though she does like to eat pirates." Dylan could hear Sam trying not to laugh outside the den. To be fair Dervla was the least fierce dog he had ever met.

"Oh. Dervla!" Millie said, accepting this as she knew Dervla well. "Okay, Auntie Sam, I'm coming to save you!"

"Millie, Dylan help, I'm drowning!" Sam said, obviously deciding she was going for her Oscar. It nearly sent Dylan over the edge, but he bit his lip and made a valiant attempt not to completely collapse with laughter.

"I'll save you Auntie Sam. Grab my hand!" Dylan could see out of the opening to the den and saw Sam had positioned herself just out of Mille's reach and was even making attempts to 'swim' while laid flat on her stomach.

"Uncle Dylan, I can't reach. Oh no the pirates are coming, they're going to get her! You have to get your sea monster!"

"Dervla, come!" Dylan yelled, in a strangled fashion, not really capable of speech after Sam's rubbish acting. The dog pattered quickly down the stairs and seemed to not have read the script as she rushed straight into the den, pulling down all the sheets and blankets on top of him. Millie wriggled out and left him covered with various forms of linen, the dog sat nearly on top of him. Dervla licked his face happily, unused to having her master on her level. Dylan tried to push her off but he was weak with laughter.

"I thought you said she was a **pet** sea monster." Millie said as she and Sam seemed to be trying to excavate both Dylan and Dervla.

"She is." Sam said as Dylan was unable to.

"Well she's not very well behaved is she?" Millie said, which was such a truthful observation that it sent both Sam and Dylan over the edge. Dylan finally saw a chink of light and a load of the linen was peeled back. He was crying by this point and Millie obviously decided if you can't beat them join them as she jumped on him and Dervla with a shriek of laughter herself. Sam seemed to shrug and joined them, all entangled with about 20 different types of sheets, blankets and towels.

"The pirates won't get us now." Millie said happily.

* * *

It didn't take long for her to be flat out on the sofa asleep under one of Dylan's throws, the sofa expertly reassembled. They had Sam's iPod on, low enough so it muffled their voices and was unlikely to wake Millie. Dylan did the washing up, watching Sam reading a journal article at the kitchen table. She seemed tired and he hoped this hadn't been too much for her. She got up and went downstairs and he followed her. She stood watching Millie sleep, seemingly deep in thought. He put his hand on her shoulder and she jumped. He shot her a look of apology; of course she couldn't hear him coming. He beckoned for her to follow him into the bedroom.

"Why don't you go to bed? I'll wait up for Jess."

"I'm okay."

"You look tired." He said gently hoping she wouldn't take his comment the wrong way.

There was a brief flash of some emotion on her face before she nodded, giving in and he caught her as she walked away. He pulled her back towards him and she seemed to melt into him. He reached a hand up and stroked her hair, his fingers lingering on the shorter patch of hair that now covered where her wound had been. Dylan knew he had seen a side of Sam today with Millie that he hadn't seen in a while. Millie had brought some much needed laughter into their lives. He wanted to talk to her about it, about their disastrous conversation about the future after she had been released from hospital but he knew he wouldn't be able to find the right words and he couldn't bring himself to try, not when she looked so worn out.

Dylan woke that night around two in the morning. He looked towards Sam as soon as he remembered why he was usually awake at that time. To his surprise she was curled onto her side facing him, sleeping peacefully. He examined her face carefully for any signs she was uncomfortable but there was nothing, she was perfectly relaxed. Dylan carefully turned his face away, unable to help the big grin that started to blossom there. If she was going to make it through one night without a nightmare, that was huge. It showed she was really improving and Dylan had to work hard to calm himself down enough to sleep. He closed his eyes again, unable and unwilling to wipe the smile from his face.

He awoke to find Sam sitting up next to him. The dawn light was streaming in through the curtains. He sat up quickly.

"Did you have a nightmare?" he asked, suddenly doubting what he had seen in the night.

She looked at him with real happiness on her face. She shook her head dumbly as if she couldn't quite believe her luck. Dylan broke out in a massive grin and she lunged for him. All of her tiredness from last night seemed to be a distant memory as she smiled at him.

"How long have we got?" She asked, a mischievous look in her eye.

Dylan sneaked a look at the bedside clock, although he didn't really care what it said.

"Plenty of time. Are you trying to get back at me for all those early lectures I made you miss?"

"In the army we don't try. We do." Sam said before leaning into kiss him and Dylan for once felt quite charitable towards the army.

* * *

_Waterford, 2009_

_Dylan moved through the house silently, he knew it well, even in the darkness. He couldn't sleep and was heading for the kitchen for a midnight snack. He paused as he came to the study. Light was showing under the door and he could hear raised voices. He quickly identified them as belonging to his mother and Gray. _

_He frowned to himself, what could they be arguing about, they were two peas in a pod._

"_How am I supposed to put this right?" Gray was saying. "I had no idea he thought that. I was just trying to protect you!"_

"_Well he does and it's the reason he's spent all these years…" She trailed off as Dylan opened the study door. Both of them looked like they had been caught discussing something incriminating. _

_His mother looked away and Gray stared at him for a moment. "You're up late."_

"_So are you." Dylan pointed out, feeling like he was missing something. They hadn't been talking about him had they?_

_Gray didn't respond and Dylan stood there for a moment before he gave up, shook his head and resumed his original course._

* * *

_The funeral was small and private, but the wake was like a massive party and Dylan was reminded just how Irish his family really was. It felt like the end of an era. Dylan knew that as soon as they could his mother and Alistair had agreed to sell the house in Ireland. It felt odd, like he was losing his connection to his childhood. He half considered buying it for a while, but he knew that he couldn't use it in the way it deserved. It deserved a massive, sociable family, like his grandparents had in younger years and Dylan knew he and Sam weren't like that at all, especially with her being away so often. They didn't even have any children. He stood on the terrace, staring at the spot where he had let Camilla go. He supposed he had to say goodbye to all of this. In some ways it felt like he was letting go of his family too. This was the only place that had brought them together, though in some ways it had also torn them apart._

_Sam joined him out on the patio coming to stand next to him and rubbing her arms at the bracing sea breeze. He pulled her in close to him to keep her warm._

"_It's beautiful out here" She said and he nodded, moving away from that cursed spot on the terrace to stare at the sea, waves catching the moonlight and glittering in the night. Tomorrow they would all go their separate ways. It was certain now that this was how his interaction with his family would go from now on. Dylan saw families in his job, all shapes and sizes and odd configurations. Families that got on well, families that fought, families so fragmented that they could barely stay in the same room. He often looked at the happy ones and wondered if maybe there was a way, some kind of solution to fixing his. But there was no magic solution and now they had grown too far apart and were simply not a part of each others lives anymore. All the little things he saw family members do for each other, bring in their favourite sweets and magazines, remember which friends to call and which ones not to, know when to comfort and when to keep silent, Dylan had lost that kind of connection to his family._

_Perhaps if he had been a different person, less stubborn, more forgiving he could have made peace with his mother and brother all those years ago. He could have forgiven them and moved on. He could have been a part of their lives. But now, Sam by his side and staring out at the ocean, he didn't regret or feel guilty for that because he knew the truth. He knew what had happened to Camilla and if no one else but him ever remembered her, he at least would know he had never just let it go, or brushed it under the carpet. _

_Just seeing the contrast between his family and Sam just showed him the way she knew him, so completely, knew how to make him feel better and how to distract him, how to comfort him and most of all how she never set out to hurt him just to get a reaction. He watched the tide go out and said goodbye to his family. _

* * *

__Holby, 2012

Dylan looked at the scenes on the news channel in reception with trepidation. He had to do his job but he itched to check on Sam, who was all alone much closer to the worst of the rioting than he was. She was coping better now but she was by no means well and he had no idea how she would cope in a stressful situation. She hadn't had a flashback since she had regained her memories but he was still a bit concerned she would develop full blown PTSD and this kind of incident would be just the kind of thing that could act as a trigger.

He worked hard to resuscitate the young woman he had sent home earlier but she was already too far gone to help by the time she got to the E.D. Charlie said something to him and Dylan brushed him off, unwilling to dwell on the perfectly logical decision he had made that had been the difference between her life and her death. He rushed out of resus, desperate for a break.

His hands had dialled his home number before he even realised he was doing it. He marvelled at how quickly he had got used to having her back in his life again. It was not so long ago he wouldn't have had anyone to call at moments like this. "Sam." He said as soon she picked up.

"Hello grumpy. How are you? From the looks of the news channel you are having some fun and games out there tonight." Dylan closed his eyes, to hear her voice; at home safe and sound was a physical relief to him.

"Not very fun I'm afraid. I've already lost one patient because the ambulance couldn't get through fast enough. There's nothing near us is there?"

"No, it's quiet here. When do you think you'll be able to get away? You sound tired." She asked gently.

"The patient I lost, I sent her home earlier. Charlie told me to keep her in, but she didn't need it. If I'd listened…" Dylan found himself telling her.

"Did she deteriorate?" Sam asked with concern.

"No. She had an unrelated anaphylactic reaction."

"Dylan you couldn't have known that would happen. My counsellor keeps telling me that doctors have an unreasonable God complex and that it can't all be our fault." There was an edge of black humour in her voice.

"Do you believe him?"

"A little. I'm working on it."

"Hmm. Ditto."

"Are you sure the E.D. doesn't need me to come in?"

"Sam, you're still on medical leave and even if you weren't, you're not cleared to drive yet, do you really fancy walking the streets alone in the middle of a riot?"

"Yes alright, not even I am that crazy grumpy. It just sounds like you lot need a hand and it's so difficult to just sit back and do nothing. You know what I'm like."

He felt a sharp jolt of fear. He did know what she was like. "Sam I'm serious, it's not safe. I want you to stay inside and lock the doors, no matter what's going on outside. You made a promise to me and if you put one foot out of that boat and into danger I think we would be over. I have to go." He finished, distracted by the sight of a new patient being brought in. Time to get back in the game.

* * *

Sam stared at the silent phone in shock and rising anger. How dare he say something like that and hang up as if it meant nothing. She dumped it on the table and went to the window but there was nothing to see. How had one phone call that had started off so normally descended into an ultimatum like that? He had actually talked to her about what was bothering him for once and then suddenly she had ended up the bad guy somehow. This was ridiculous; he didn't trust her at all.

How was she supposed to live her life if he was always going to be watching after her telling her what she could and couldn't do? Sam considered perhaps she was wrong in allowing this to continue anyway. She was not telling him about her pregnancy because she finally felt like they could be happy, but it was really just sticking her head in the sand. It was an artificial happiness because at the back of her mind there was the knowledge that there was something waiting in the wings to bring the whole house of cards down and Sam hated that she was thinking of their baby in those kinds of terms.

She was distracted from her musing by a sudden rush of activity from the window. Sam's thoughts went first to the locked box in the living room and she hated herself for it. To go for her gun would be a massive overreaction not unlike what she had done to Keith Parr and she knew it. She walked to the window and switched off the light, looking out while being careful to stay in the shadows. She listened carefully, her inner soldier screaming at the feeling that she was not properly aware of her environment. She jumped as she heard a scream come from outside, so loud that even her hearing had no trouble picking it up. She scanned the dim light outside and spotted movement, it looked like a teenage girl, and she was sitting up against the wall, trying to stand. She looked terrified and Sam was torn. She had promised Dylan she wouldn't put herself in danger but this girl obviously needed her help. The girl was sobbing now, but covering her mouth with her hand, trying to quiet herself. She managed to get to her feet, but it was obvious one leg couldn't hold her weight and she collapsed again to the floor. Sam scanned the area around but there was no one else. She couldn't just leave her. Decision made, Sam grabbed her black hoodie, pulled the hood up over her head and made her way out into the night.

* * *

Charlie was surprised to see Sam in resus, helping Tom and Linda. Dylan walked through the doors straight after him and seemed to have been forewarned about Sam's presence.

"Dr Keogh, a word." He sounded furious. Charlie had a split second of momentary confusion until he realised that Dylan was talking to Sam. It was odd thinking of her using Dylan's name; it reminded Charlie of how little they really understood about their colleague's complicated marriage. He led her out of resus and Charlie could see the anger in every line of his body. Sam followed, looking almost uncertain, which was very out of character for the young doctor. They really didn't have time for this he reflected as he waded in to assist Tom and Linda.

* * *

Sam followed Dylan to the staffroom, which was quiet apart from an odd blanketed construction at one end of the room. Sam barely had time to register it before Dylan slammed the door shut.

"What the hell did you think you were doing? Did you listen to what I said at all?"

"Of course I did. I could hardly forget it could I?" She said, reminded of how angry it had made her.

"Then why are you illegally treating patients and once again putting yourself in the line of fire? Do you actually have a death wish?"

"You know I don't." She felt a wave of guilt but pushed it away quickly, holding on tighter to her anger. "I heard a scream and I followed it. Anyone would have done the same. I was never in any danger; it was just a teenage girl who had fallen over running away from some rioters."

"Oh of course, I'm sure you took the time to do a proper risk assessment before you proceeded. Shall I expect to be attending another GMC hearing by the way? I so enjoyed the last one."

"No. I just gave her first aid. She was a bit scared in the ambulance so I came in with her. That's all. It was hardly the crime of the century. Not quite worth the threat of divorce I got."

"You did exactly what I asked you not too. How long did that promise last anyway?"

"That isn't fair. Are you going to threaten to break up every time we disagree? You shouldn't have even put me in this position. I mean it Dylan I don't want to hear an ultimatum like this from you ever again. This is who I am and if you can't accept it maybe we shouldn't be together anyway." Sam said anger getting the better of her.

"Maybe you're right." He said stone-faced and walked off leaving the staffroom door open.

Sam shut it after him gently, feeling the black hole inside her which had only just begun to heal break open again. He couldn't seriously mean that, could he? She felt so angry with him but she didn't seriously want to separate. She honestly didn't know how to just let things go. Ever since she could remember she had been the type of person to run towards the danger instead of away from it and she didn't know any other way to be.

She didn't know how things could go so wrong so quickly. Perhaps it shouldn't be a shock, she had yet to tell him she was pregnant and she had known for nearly three weeks. She was faced with the sudden shocking prospect that she may be doing this, raising her baby, alone as a single parent. She put her hand over her eyes and let a few sobs escape her, letting her other hand come to rest on her stomach for the first time. She didn't notice the three young pairs of eyes watching her from under the blanket in the corner of the room, but only one of them possessed the maturity to understand what her gesture meant. She composed herself quickly and decided to go out there to see if she could help.

* * *

Sam quickly found herself in the middle of a wall of rioters, among a group of E.D. staff and a few police officers trying to keep things under control. They were baying for blood and a woman she recognised as the dead man's partner stood on some chairs and was inciting the crowd further. Sam felt trapped and surrounded but there was nowhere for her to go and she focused on keeping her particular square of rioters at bay, regretting ever putting herself in this position.

She felt a massive relief as she saw more police and a bloody and dishevelled Mr Jordan appear. He moved the crowd aside through sheer force of personality and Sam was shocked to see his partner, looking very ill on a hospital trolley being pushed past them. Just seeing what it was doing to him physically hurt her as she considered the parallels between her and Dylan's situation. The noise and people pushing and shoving were too much after so long spent just on her own or with Dylan and she struggled to keep her head straight. She found herself watching each little movement the crowd made as if they were suddenly going to come out with an AK47 or a suicide bomb like back in Afghanistan. The police arrested and removed the woman on the chairs and the crowd fell back a little. Sam took the opportunity to escape and abandoned her post, bypassing the staffroom and heading straight into the ladies toilets. She stood in a stall and locked the door, leaning against the opposite wall with her head bowed, palms flat against the wall, trying to breathe and regain her composure.

* * *

Now that things had quietened down Dylan went looking for Sam knowing it couldn't be avoided any longer. He opened the door to the staff room but it was empty. He was just about to close it again when he heard movement. He walked over to the odd blanket construction on one side of the room which he realised now held a definite resemblance to Millie's den last week. He raised the flap dramatically and the two little boys jumped. The teenage girl, Linda's niece, Britney or Briony gave him a hostile glare.

"So you lot were here the whole time. Well. This is awkward." Dylan said mostly to himself as he realised they would have seen his argument with Sam.

"Yeah we were and we saw you yelling at your girlfriend." Britney said disapprovingly as though she had witnessed him peering into the girls changing rooms at school.

"She's my wife and it's rather more complicated that what you see on Waterloo Road." Dylan said feeling the need to defend himself and finding the teenagers judgment annoying after an already stressful day. Truthfully Dylan wasn't feeling particularly proud of himself at the moment.

"Whatever. You made her cry. When you've got her pregnant too!" She said, shaking her head disgustedly. Dylan's heart sank as he heard he had made Sam cry. He had yelled at Eleanora for using her vulnerabilities against her and he had done exactly the same thing.

"She's not pregnant." He said absently, knowing if she were this mouthy teenager would be the last person she told.

The teenager simply raised her eyes sceptically and walked out past him. Dylan blinked, Sam wasn't was she? No, that was ridiculous, she would have told him and she would know better than to get pregnant so soon after surgery. Except she hadn't exactly been rational all the time, she hadn't been acting like his normal Sam. What if she had done something silly?

He filed Briony's suspicions away for later and resumed the search for Sam, bumping into Tess in the corridor who said she had last seen Sam when they had all been performing crowd control over in the waiting area. He cursed as he realised she had been right in the middle of things. He went outside, but there was press and more angry crowds and he couldn't see her. He regarded the ladies toilet door with at least a seconds thought before he decided he didn't give a shit and walked straight in.

"Sam? Are you in here?"

There was a click of a door and she came out, going automatically to wash her hands. He watched her carefully seeing the cautious way she moved, the way she didn't let him out of her sight and the way she seemed to be fighting with herself.

"How's it going out there?" She said finally, coming to stand face to face with him, game face firmly on.

"It seems to be dying down. Zoe said she could spare me for a few hours sleep before I'm back on at midday. Shall we go home?"

"Is it? Is it my home? Or is it my home until you decide you've had enough or I'm too much trouble?" Sam stared at him, face pale and almost blank, like she had done too good a job of composing herself and had buried too much of herself under the mask.

Dylan struggled to answer, before realising they couldn't talk about this here.

"Please. Just come with me." He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation.

She had always made clear what she wanted from him and she had always made clear the person she was. She was who he had fallen in love with, not some scaredy cat who didn't like stepping outside their front door. So why did it hurt so much, terrify him so much when she put herself in danger? Surely if he had fallen in love with her he should be able to take it, should be able to shrug and turn away and get on with it and not worry about her every single second of every day. But try as he might it was he couldn't figure out how to do it. When Tess had told him Sam was coming in with an ambulance crew and a casualty his heart had nearly stopped. Not because Tess had explained it incorrectly but because all he could think about was Sam being hurt. His brain had heard what Tess was saying to him but it had taken his heart a moment to catch up. When it had caught up, then came the anger, crippling him and making him take it out on the one person he tried with all his being to protect.

"I'm sorry." He said, holding her hand tight as if she hadn't just given it to him willingly.

Dylan watched her sleep as he got ready for bed. He went into the bathroom and shut the door. A sudden thought struck him. He opened the bathroom cabinet and looked for Sam's packet of pills. The small layer of dust on the top of the packet and the date on the prescription wasn't lost on him. She had stopped taking it on purpose. He shook his head. What was she thinking? Was she so reckless that she didn't even consider the risks to her and any baby? After all her body had been through in the last six weeks it would be an extremely unlikely that she would be able to get pregnant, and what was she thinking not telling him? Did she think so little of him that his opinion, his rights didn't matter? Did she really want to remember the making of their child as something she had tricked him into rather than something they had done together? One thing was certain. They needed to have a rather big chat, sooner rather than later.


	19. Chapter 19

The Damage We Do – Chapter 19

Sorry this update is so extremely late, been on holiday, had a great time but no time to write and no internet sadly.

Also, in my last update I was so eager to post I forgot to thank the reviewers and followers! *hangs head in shame*

In this chapter is one scene I rewrote five times in wildly different ways. You'll probably guess the one I mean…..

So anyway, thanks to Ficmouse, Callie Rawston, Antonia, MissRach989, Baibe, .11, and AnnaLiz2012 and all the people still following this story. The reviews in particular are so amazing and help me to keep writing.

As always, I'm not a medical expert, I don't own casualty etc!

Please review!

* * *

_Camp Bastion, Afghanistan, 2009_

_Sam lay in her bunk, still feeling wired from her shift in the base hospital. She should really catch some sleep, but the things she had seen earlier kept running through her head. She felt like what she was doing out here was good, and so much more important than patching up yet another drunk, or stupid gang member who had got themselves stabbed like in Britain but she also felt like she was so much more out of her depth here. She longed to call Dylan and talk to him about what she had been doing. She longed to ask his advice about some of the things she had seen. _

_In Britain she was closely supervised and regarded as a doctor in training, but out here it was somewhat different. To the people around her here, they didn't care she was only an F2. That meant nothing to them. She was a doctor and that meant she knew everything. Except she didn't, far from it and she was conscious she was on an extremely steep learning curve. These people were relying on her and they were a team with a much deeper bond than anything she had ever experienced in the NHS. She found herself missing Dylan much more than she did in Germany, but Afghanistan was better in some ways. It was much busier and it left less time to think. The strict controls on communication was already wearing though and she was determined they were going to spend her R & R joined at the hip. She was a bit worried about him when they had spoken on the phone last. He had seemed off somehow. She thought perhaps he was still upset over his grandfather, she had not been happy that she had left him so soon after that, but she couldn't have done anything about it. She was in the army, not the touchy feely huggy club. Her commanding officer would have pissed himself laughing if she had mentioned it. Sam smiled at the idea. Her grumpy was just going to have to put up with life without her for a while. _

* * *

Holby, 2012

Dylan got in after his shift exhausted. Whatever slack Mr Jordan had been cutting him so he could be there to support Sam had obviously been negated. It was all on him and Zoe now, and there simply weren't enough hours in the day. He had yet to talk to Sam about what he had discovered and found himself avoiding talking to her because he simply didn't know what to say. This was all so far beyond his ability to deal with that he shied away from it. He slipped into bed beside Sam and saw she was sleeping uneasily. He stroked her arm, hoping to calm her down. She seemed to wake a little but instead of rolling into his embrace like she normally did, she turned away from him, even in sleep recognising his conflicted feelings. He lay there staring at the ceiling trying to figure out how to have this conversation in a calm and sensitive way. He turned away, frustrated. Who was he kidding? He was going to bugger this up, he just knew it. Perhaps better to leave it be for the time being.

* * *

Sam waited outside Dr Sidoli's office, not really wanting to see the other woman again after she had upset Dylan so much, but not wanting to go through the fuss of getting a new neurologist. Of course if she didn't clear her to go back to work, that might change. It had been seven weeks now and Sam was climbing the walls. She couldn't find a new job until she had been cleared as fit to practice and Sam desperately needed something else in her life besides Dylan, who since the riots had been absent in every way that mattered. She knew that both Zoe as the new clinical lead and Dylan as the only other consultant in a department that usually functioned with three consultants were under enormous pressure but she also recognised that Dylan was avoiding her.

There was obviously a conversation he didn't want to have and he would avoid her until it got bad enough he couldn't avoid it anymore. Sam would have in the past tried to force the issue, but this time she just felt so tired, so sick of every little thing being a struggle or a drama that she didn't want that day to come. She didn't want to have that conversation, because if what had happened the night of the riots was any indication, it would be a conversation that ended in them getting divorced for real.

Since the riots, he hadn't even touched her, hadn't kissed her, he may as well have built the great wall of china between them because that's what it felt like to Sam. It was only after her nightmares that he still held her, still comforted her. She didn't know how to feel about that, did he do it because he felt he had too or because he still loved her despite it all? It used to make her feel so much better, but now she was so worried about what he was going to do that she just felt self conscious, like she was making it less likely he would stay with her with every nightmare she had. She knew she couldn't tell him about her pregnancy until he'd got whatever it was out of his system. She hadn't been back to sort out her flat and she was having second thoughts about giving it up. If she was going to be on her own she needed a job so this appointment was important.

"Sam?" Dr Sidoli called her and Sam followed the neurologist into her office. "How have you been since the last time I saw you?

"Good." Sam said shortly.

"Great. I've had your blood tests back and I'll just run you through a few routine tests today. I suppose you're dying to know if you can get back to work?"

"Yes." Sam said emphatically sitting down in the chair at the side of Dr Sidoli's desk.

Dr Sidoli nodded. "First I'd like to talk to you about one of your blood tests. Are you aware that you are pregnant?"

Sam felt shocked. She had completely forgotten she would have to tell Dr Sidoli, who she didn't trust at all. She had just come for a signature to enable her to work.

"Yes. I was aware." She managed to say.

"Okay. I'm going to refer you to our high risk obstetrics team. They'll want to give you an early scan and monitor you a bit more than they normally would because of the major surgery you have recently had."

Sam felt like she wanted to sink into the ground. "Thank you."

Dr Sidoli regarded her sympathetically. "I'm not judging you Sam. These things happen; I know very well, I have the teenage son to prove it. Have you told your partner yet?"

"No." Sam said, still disconcerted. "Obviously I'd rather you didn't mention it to Dylan yet. I just have to find the right time, you know."

Dr Sidoli nodded.

"I'm not an expert in neurology or obstetrics. How big a risk am I taking?" Sam asked, allowing herself to discuss this with another person for the first time.

"Sam you are young and healthy, your surgery was as a result of trauma not cancer and you have recovered very well. Your tests so far all appear normal. That said you are at a slightly higher risk of miscarriage and premature delivery. The main thing is that you are monitored effectively and you are vigilant with your health throughout the pregnancy. Your obstetrician may also recommend a Caesarean section, but you can decide that closer to your due date. There should be no reason you cannot have a successful pregnancy."

Sam let out a breath she didn't realise she had been holding. "Thank you." She performed well through the neurological tests and left Dr Sidoli's office having been cleared both to work and drive. She left the neurology department and stopped, leaning against the wall and pretending to fiddle with her phone. She was reeling. She had been unwilling to tell anyone about her pregnancy, firstly because it was unfair anyone else knew before Dylan but also because she had been so afraid that they would tell her it was either too much of a threat to her recovery and she should have an abortion or that they would say she would probably lose her baby. She had been trying desperately not to bond with her baby, not allowing herself to even look at anything to do with children or allow herself to plan what she would be doing in eight months time. Maybe she could finally let herself be happy about this. She jumped as her phone vibrated in her hand. The screen lit up happily.

'Ian calling'

Sam frowned and cancelled the call. That was the last thing she and Dylan needed. She put her phone back in her bag and decided to see if she could do something about getting her job back. She hoped Zoe was in a good mood.

* * *

She went down to the E.D. hoping not to attract such an enthusiastic crowd of people as last time. There was an unfamiliar woman at the reception desk so she waited until she saw someone she knew.

"Tom!" She said trying to catch his attention.

"Hello Sam. It's good to see you! Do you want me to get Dylan for you?" The tall doctor came over, obviously about to call a patient.

"No actually. I'm looking for Zoe." The last thing she wanted was for the rest of the E.D to pick up on how awkward things had got between her and Dylan.

"Ah, our fearless leader. Well good luck, Charlie's convinced her to try and give up smoking."

"Oh. Perhaps I should come back later…" Sam said apprehensively

"Zoe! Look who it is! She wants a quick word." Tom said spotting Zoe and pushing Sam towards her seamlessly. Sam shot him a look of betrayal before turning her attention back to Zoe.

"Sam. Glad to see you're looking better. I haven't got long; Dylan's probably told you we are a bit short staffed." Zoe said, she kept walking and Sam fell into step beside her.

"Yes. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I've just been cleared to go back to work and I was wondering whether…"

"You could have your old job back?" Zoe interrupted, clearly on a timetable. "No, we hired a replacement. But I can give you a temporary part time contract for six months if you're interested? I knew someone who went through something similar to you and trust me, you'll be grateful for the part time hours."

"Uh, yes that would be great." Sam said feeling this was moving too fast.

"Good. You can start on Monday; I'll give Dylan your hours tomorrow."

"Right Thanks." Sam called after Zoe as she disappeared. "Well that was the fastest interview I ever had." She said to herself.

"Sam. What are you doing here?" Dylan startled her as she watched Zoe disappear.

"I had an appointment with Dr Sidoli."

Dylan was instantly on his guard. "I told her to find you a different neurologist. That woman…"

"Dylan. It's fine. Anyway, she's cleared me to work and drive and Zoe has just given me a job." She smiled, feeling like things were finally looking up.

"That's great Sam." He said, looking like he was lying.

"Right well, I'm glad you're so happy for me." She shook her head. "See you back at the boat."

She stalked off annoyed at him for popping her bubble. Sam reflected that it had worked out perfectly. She was worried she would have to tell Zoe about her pregnancy before Dylan knew but a six month contract, while not exactly what she would have chosen would work out really well for her timing wise. The part time hours she was less sure about as she was sure it would mean a significant pay cut but she had enough money from her army career saved and she had no illusions she would find it easy to secure another job while pregnant, equal opportunities legislation or not.

She swallowed. She was already thinking about this like she was going to be on her own. That wasn't what she had wanted at all, she had wanted her baby to have two parents who loved them, and have a safe and secure family and home. She had always thought with Dylan she would have no trouble achieving that. She vowed that even if they did separate their baby would never know his or her conception was anything other than much wished for. Mostly she wanted with all her heart to fix this, but she didn't know where to begin.

* * *

Dylan went looking for Zoe; conscious she should have finished an hour ago but was probably still working. He walked straight into her office without knocking, which he reflected was becoming a bit of a habit of his.

"Dylan. I'm not here." She seemed to be gathering her things together, trying to make her escape.

"Yes you are. And you gave Sam a job." He said, unable to keep the whine out of his voice.

"Yes. She's been cleared to work… Dylan are you trying to talk me out of giving your wife a job?" Zoe said sounding irritated.

"No. Yes. I don't think she's ready yet." He admitted, feeling disloyal as he said it.

"Well her neurologist says otherwise."

"Oh yes. I'm only the person who lives with her, sees her every day...her neurologist probably only cleared her to annoy me."

"Gained another fan in neurology have we?" Zoe said sarcastically.

Dylan narrowed his eyes at her.

"Look Dylan, I realise Sam has been through something massive and terrifying and I realise you went through it too, believe me I understand, but you have to let her move on. She seems a lot better to me. She probably needs to get back to normal."

"She has nightmares."

"Dylan, I have nightmares sometimes, what's your point?" Zoe dismissed him.

"Do you? About what? And it's not her neurological status I'm worried about."

Zoe put her things down on the desk in defeat. "What, you think she's suffering from PTSD?"

"No. At least not quite. But she's definitely having trouble."

"Right. Well, she's only back part time so it shouldn't be as stressful, she'll be in a familiar environment and we will all look out for her, okay?"

"I'm not happy about this." Dylan said, not caring that he sounded petulant.

"Why am I not surprised?" Zoe said as she finally left her office and he could hear the eye-roll in her voice.

* * *

_Plymouth 2009_

_Dylan always felt Asta was at the back of his mind. Every moment he spent with the trainees he felt like he was striving to keep her memory from suffocating him, the guilt, especially now Sam was away and there was nothing to distract him was like a black cloud that stalked him down the hallways of the hospital. Going home was no relief; it was only Dervla that made his life bearable. It was awful knowing there was no one waiting for you at home and that the only person who you wanted to share your life with was somewhere you couldn't reach them._

_He was the most junior consultant in the department, so he wasn't overly worried when Dr Donald summoned him to her office in the middle of a shift. He had been meaning to speak to her anyway; he had somehow become the consultant with unofficial responsibility for the foundation doctors which was very ironic to Dylan considering he was most definitely the only consultant who had ever actually lost a doctor. He knew he had built up a somewhat obsessive reputation and that trainee doctors alternately wished for and feared being assigned to him. Wished for as none of his doctors had ever failed, but feared as he made sure they never even came close to being put in that position, mostly due to assigning them copious amounts of extra work and teaching time. Dylan was sure his schedule was probably against the European working hour's directives for junior doctors. He didn't care. Only Dr Donald ever challenged him about it. The other consultants seemed as a collective to decide that if that was his way of coping, he should be left to get on with it. Dylan tried to ignore the little voice at the back of his mind that this wasn't coping, not really and sooner or later the whole house of cards would come tumbling down._

"_Dylan, good. Take a seat."_

"_Kathy. Do you mind if I get some tea?"_

"_Go ahead. I wanted to talk to you about an F2 that we passed on the last rotation."_

_Dylan turned back to look at his boss. "Someone applying for a job?"_

_She took a deep breath. "No. He's been referred to the GMC. It seems he cheated. Faked some of his portfolio. Some of it you signed off on." Dylan froze. _

"_Who?"_

"_Callum Jarvis. He got caught when one of the examiners spotted some similarities in one of his write ups. Some of his procedures were signed off by staff who weren't even working on the days they were reportedly signed him off."_

_Dylan turned back to her, shocked. "How…Why would he do that? He wasn't a particularly troublesome trainee. He knew his arm from his elbow. The effort needed to fake a portfolio is considerably larger than just doing it properly in the first place. What a bloody idiot!"_

"_I've read his provisional statement to the GMC. He says he felt overwhelmed and was scared to ask for help and he just got further and further in over his head."_

"_He was scared to ask for help?" Dylan's anger deflated and he dropped into the chair in front of his clinical lead's desk. "I would have helped." Dylan was devastated. He thought by trying harder, spending more time, giving more help he could avoid what happened to Asta from happening again. But it hadn't worked. He couldn't do this anymore. He had never had any indication Callum was having trouble. He just wasn't able to read people in that way._

"_I'm not blaming you Dylan." She hastened to say obviously reading his expression. "I'm trying to get you to put less effort into the trainees not more. We just need to deal with this now. You need to go back over his work, see if you can spot any discrepancies. Talk to the young man himself; see if you can help him with his defence. You liked him didn't you?"_

"_Yes." Dylan was silent for a moment his mind racing, thoughts swirling around his head wildly, pot luck which would come out first. "I need a break. From my training responsibilities. I need a break." He repeated, hating how desperate he sounded, but fighting the nearly irresistible urge to walk out of the hospital and never come back._

_Dr Donald examined him carefully and he realised how much strain it would put the department under. She didn't seem surprised though and Dylan reflected perhaps she had seen this coming._

"_Okay. We can do that Dylan. Bring me what you've been working on and I'll delegate it appropriately. In fact why don't you take the rest of the shift off? Go home, call Sam and don't think about this place for the rest of the evening."_

"_I can't just call Sam you know. It's not as simple as that." He sighed, suddenly feeling awfully tired. "I'll go home. Thanks Kathy."_

_He went home and was greeted by Dervla who he could tell had been on the sofa. He didn't care. He sat down on the floor and stared across the living room. The photograph in the frame opposite him showed a happy Sam and Asta on a night out during med school, obviously well oiled and hugging each other happily. Dylan knew she wouldn't be able to answer but called Sam's mobile anyway. He closed his eyes as he heard her voice saying she couldn't answer the phone as she was out of country, but to leave a message anyway. He hung up before the beep and put some music on and poured himself a drink. He placed the photo face down, unable to take it anymore._

* * *

Holby, 2012

Dylan watched as Sam posted the envelope containing the last of her paperwork to leave the army. She popped it in the post-box carefully and stood looking at the post-box pensively for a moment as if unable to believe it was really done. She was still officially on medical leave but she started back at Holby E.D. today so this was the last week they would pay her. She was no longer be Major Nicholls. She was back to being Dr Nicholls. They hadn't discussed it but she had obviously decided it would be too confusing for her to go back to being Dr Keogh while they worked in the same department. She got back into the car and didn't pull away; giving Dylan the impression she was barely controlling her panic.

"Would you like me to drive?"

"No. Of course not. I'm just thinking. I'm not Major Nicholls anymore." She sounded lost and Dylan was reminded of how much she had been through over the past eight weeks.

"That isn't everything you are. You've always been more than just a rank Sam." She turned towards him then like he had opened a door between them. Dylan was suddenly terrified she would want to have this conversation before work and he looked away. She regarded him for a moment and Dylan could tell she wanted to say something. She seemed to lose her nerve and she turned back towards the windscreen.

"Best get this over with then." She said covering her discomfort with energy as always.

* * *

They got into the E.D. and put their things in their lockers. Sam had the same one she had before as it had still been empty. She changed into her scrubs, unsurprised that Dylan had taken the opportunity to escape from her presence as fast as he could. She went to find Zoe as instructed.

"Ah, Sam, good. It's nice to have you back. You'll be on cubicles for the next few weeks to ease you back in."

Sam covered her disappointment and nodded. "Listen Zoe, I didn't get a chance to tell you before that I have some residual hearing damage that might make it difficult."

"Yes I know, Dylan told me. We'll work around it and the nurses will help with any phone calls. It might still improve you know."

"I hope so."

"Was there anything else?" Zoe asked. Sam considered this was definitely where she should be telling her about her pregnancy but Zoe had known she was going to ask Dylan for a divorce before Dylan and it would be awful to do something similar to him again. She had to tell him before she told Zoe.

"No. I'll get to work." She said and took a deep breath before re-entering the fray.

* * *

Plymouth, 2009

_Dylan stalked the halls of the hospital feeling like everyone was against him. He slammed the staffroom door after him and the cheap foil Christmas decorations fluttered in the draft. He had a massive headache and it hadn't gone away all day. He couldn't wait to leave. He used to love his job, but now he felt like he was just going through the motions, waiting for his day to end so he could go home and forget it all. _

_He had always loved Christmas when he was a child. He had loved the traditions and the way his family used to all come together and enjoy themselves. He had even liked the midnight service his normally aetheist parents attended, the carols so comforting and beautiful. Now it just annoyed him, made him remember how lonely and depressing his Christmas was going to be. Sam had thoughtfully switched her R & R with a colleague who had a young family so she was definitely not going to be back anytime soon. The excitement and anticipation of his colleagues and the patients was like a spike poking at an open wound. He was successfully avoiding any work that involved any element of teaching or supervision but he knew that couldn't continue indefinitely. It was part of his job and was part of how an emergency department functioned. He would either have to deal with it or leave and Dylan didn't really want to contemplate either option._

_He picked up a Chinese and got home, giving Dervla a short walk guiltily before retiring to the sofa. She must be missing the long runs she was used to with Sam but he just didn't have the energy to contemplate going out again. Dylan had polished off the Chinese and two bottles of wine to himself when the door bell rang. He groaned but unsteadily moved off the sofa and opened the door._

"_Hi" It was Jess and Millie. Jess had a bag over her shoulder and was dressed smartly and Dylan suddenly remembered he had agreed to babysit Millie a couple of weeks ago._

"_Hello. Come in." He said and Jess did. Her face fell at the sight of the empty bottles of wine on the coffee table. _

"_Have you been drinking?" She said, annoyance beginning to creep into her voice and body language._

"_Yes. I'm sorry Jess, I forgot completely." He said ashamed at how it must look to her._

"_Right. I'll have to find someone else to have her then." She sounded resigned. _

"_You don't have to do that, I'll be okay. Just let me make myself a coffee."_

"_I don't think so." She held Millie tighter. "I'm worried about you. This drinking…"_

"_It's nothing. Just a rough day. When you do the job I do, rough days are rougher than most, okay? It's not a problem."_

"_You're talking to an addict Dylan. I don't believe that and neither do you." Jess shook her head and left._

_Dylan felt sick. Did he have a problem? He had never let Jess down before. No, of course not. He did a stressful job and liked to unwind a bit. And his wife was three thousand miles away in a warzone doing god knows what. This was not a problem. He poured himself another drink, hating himself as he did so._

* * *

Holby, 2012

Dylan watched Sam as she dealt with the young woman in cubicles. She seemed to be doing fine and he forced himself to move away as she treated a young teenage girl with burns on her arm and an overprotective mother. He returned to his own patient, an elderly cancer patient who was having breathing difficulties.

He came past thirty minutes later and Sam seemed to have just returned to the teenage girl, who was now looking pale and nauseous. Dylan went to walk on past, but he couldn't do it. He shook his head and grabbed the cubicle curtain and prepared to try and support his wife, who probably would not welcome his help.

* * *

Zoe had assembled her only husband and wife team in the corridor outside resus where their teenage patient was currently stable and minus one mentally ill mother. She regarded them with annoyance. How had Nick managed not to murder his staff sometimes was fast becoming a major mystery to her now she was the one who had to clean up the mess.

"She did say..." Sam started and then trailed off.

"What did she say?" Zoe said, patience fading fast.

"She did say she didn't want her mum to stay anymore. She seemed quite desperate but I thought she was just blowing off steam. Her mother did seem very overprotective." Sam leaned against the wall, looking angry with herself.

"I thought that was what she meant too." Dylan said clearly trying to make Sam feel better.

"Oh this gets better." Zoe said rounding on him. "Sam has just come back to work from three months off. What's your excuse for missing this?"

"That's exactly why I was there! It was Sam's first case; I just wanted to make sure she was coping." Sam just looked more upset at this and Zoe lost patience.

"That's not your job Dylan. You're here for the patients not as Sam's cheerleading squad."

"That's what I said." Sam muttered but Zoe caught it.

She turned back to her. "Listen, the bottom line is that this girl was obviously making a cry for help and both of you were so wrapped up in your own relationship that you almost missed it."

Both Sam and Dylan stared at her aghast and Zoe wondered what she had accidentally strayed into.

They looked away and looked at each other, both seemingly waiting for the reaction of the other. Sam completely floored Zoe by bursting into tears, and walking off so swiftly it was practically a run. Dylan looked almost guilty but shot Zoe a betrayed look before striding after her and Zoe was left feeling a bit guilty herself. If you had told her she would make a member of her staff cry today she would have been shocked enough. That it was Sam was an even nuttier idea. Sam had faced the Taliban and survived for god's sake and then Zoe came along….

She bet Nick would never have made Sam cry.

* * *

Dylan chased after Sam; she walked straight out of the E.D to the little garden area outside. She stopped and stood, running both hands through her hair, obviously fighting for control. He waited a moment before stepping forward, the guilt he usually kept tightly locked down rearing its head. However angry he was at Sam at the moment, in this there was only one person to blame and it was him. If past events were still causing her pain, which it seemed like they were, he had to try and comfort her.

"Sam." He said, placing his hand on her back and stroking her gently. She seemed to relax into it for a moment, before she turned around abruptly.

"Make up your bloody mind!" She said angrily.

He was silent, unsure what she wanted from him but accepting her anger as his just deserts.

She watched him for a reaction and didn't look surprised when he didn't speak.

"Just leave me alone." She said, looking sick as she said it and rushing away from him. He watched her go and sat down on the little stone bench. He needed to talk to her. He was so afraid of getting it wrong and making her leave again or worse adding to her already troubled mental state. He also knew they were fast approaching the point of no return, where saying nothing was just as bad as saying something. He just wished he had an idea of how to handle this.

Zoe, approached and sat down beside him. "Alright Dylan, I'll bite. What did I say that was so terrible? I've never made a soldier cry before and it's freaking me out. My management style isn't on a par with the Taliban is it?"

Dylan struggled to think of how to deflect her. "I'd watch my back if I were you. And deny all knowledge of seeing her cry, safer that way."

"Dylan. What is going on? Is this related to your PTSD theory or…?"

"No." Dylan shook his head vehemently. "This is me. My fault. Polly wasn't the first colleague I caused the death of."

"You didn't cause Polly's death. Was this what you meant when you said it all went wrong when you got too close?" Zoe asked gently.

"Have you ever lost a doctor?"

"Lost?"

"Yes Lost. Failed, caused the death of. Seen die. One or any of the above." He said irritably.

"No. But we lost a new F2, Heather, a couple of years ago at a scene. Adam, you remember Adam? He was her supervisor. He was devastated." Zoe said, not liking where this was going.

Dylan took a deep breath, staring blankly straight ahead. "I lost Asta. She was an F1, twenty three years old. She was Sam's best friend and she killed herself because I forced her into a situation she wasn't comfortable with. I was too busy trying to protect Sam to notice her cry for help."

Zoe closed her eyes in distress before focusing on him once more. "Dylan. Sam doesn't blame you for that."

"I know. It only makes it worse." He confessed, shocked he was even sharing this.

"You're missing the point you doughnut." He looked at her in confusion. "Sam's a smart girl. If she doesn't blame you, maybe it's because it wasn't your fault?"

"Er…That's not…" Dylan found himself denying, never having looked at it like that before.

"Anyway, Sam should be your priority now, not wallowing in some kind of epic sized guilt trip. Honestly Dylan!" Zoe's phone rang and she left, the sound of her heels clicking on the pavement fading away as he continued to stare at the ground.

* * *

Sam had now been back at work for a few weeks and despite her disastrous first day she had settled back in quickly. She found her moods and emotions were more unpredictable than they had been before Afghanistan which had not only resulted in her unfortunate crying episode in front of Zoe which it still made her cringe to recall but also a couple of alarming occasions where she had seriously struggled to stop herself resorting to violence.

Dylan and her seemed to have formed a bit of a truce at work and were now working with each other, if not well, then at least leaving behind some of the tension that lingered on the boat. Sam hesitated to think of the boat as home anymore. She knew she was steadily doing her best to separate herself from the boat and Dervla, so that when and if she and Dylan as a couple imploded completely it wouldn't be so bad. It was proving harder than she thought, though if it was due to her increased soppiness caused by her pregnancy hormones or just normal she couldn't tell.

She was quite frustrated by the easiness in which she filled up with tears. She had been listening to a CD Dylan had on in the background the other day and it had set her off. She had to go hide in the kitchen until she controlled herself. She knew she was doing a beautiful ostrich impression by not telling Dylan, or forcing him to talk about what was eating him, but she still hadn't decided how to handle it. On her worst days she considered booking a few days holiday and leaving him a note informing him and only coming back when she was sure he had calmed down.

Zoe walked by. "Sam, Tom is covering a music festival on Saturday. They're looking for someone else if you're interested?"

Sam considered the music festivals she had been to but her reaction to the crowds during the riots and that awful trapped feeling came to the forefront of her mind with lightening fast speed.

"No I don't think so. I'm not working Saturday. I have plans." She said smoothly.

Zoe regarded her for a moment before nodding and walking off.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_Dylan got home to the flat to find Dervla sitting in front of the door, shivering. The flat was freezing and Dylan could see his breath in the air which was as chilly as the cold December air outside. This was all he needed. He wrapped Dervla in a blanket to warm her up and dug through the bills to find the gas bill with a number on it to call. He dialled the number, retreating to the bedroom and wrapping himself in the duvet and failing to protest when Dervla joined him, curling close to him to steal his body heat. He plodded his way impatiently through the multiple choice menus and questions and nearly died of shock when he finally reached a real person._

"_Hello, my name is Charlotte, how can I help you today?" _

"_My heating is broken and I would like someone to fix it before I get hypothermia."_

"_Okay sir can I have your name?"_

_Dylan's heart sunk as he read the name on the bill. Samantha Nicholls. When she had moved in she had just taken over paying Jack's share of the bills. They had never bothered putting them in both their names and Dylan realised now what a big mistake they had made._

"_Sam Nicholls" He said, hoping to get away with it. He would have put on a comedy girly voice and pretended to be Sam if he thought it would get his heating fixed._

"_Can I have your South-West Gas customer reference number?"_

_He gave the requested number and waited with baited breath. _

"_Are you the bill payer sir?" She asked, already knowing the answer._

"_No. I'm the bill payer's husband who is freezing his arse off." This wasn't going well._

"_I really need to speak with the bill payer sir. It's an issue of security. If she isn't there at the moment she can call us back at her convenience."_

"_That will be impossible as she's a member of the British Army currently serving in Afghanistan." Dylan said, hoping against hope she would understand that he couldn't do anything about that._

_I'm sorry sir. It's a matter of account security. She'll have to authorise you to take action on her behalf."_

"_How the hell is she going to do that?" He said, losing patience._

"_They get mail don't they? A signed letter will be sufficient."_

"_You expect me to sit here in the freezing cold for the two weeks it takes for a letter to get here from Afghan? I had to defrost my dog when I came home, any longer and I'll be reported to the RSPCA!" And there it was. Patience going, going, gone. Dylan put his hand to his forehead, feeling this was a headache too far after the work day he had already suffered through._

"_I'm sorry I can't do more to help you sir." She said not sounding sorry at all._

"_So what, that's it? I wonder why Sam bothers serving her country if this is the attitude she can expect to receive. I want to speak to your supervisor."_

_There was a brief blast of dire music before he was back on the phone with a human being._

"_Sir, I'm Stefan, Customer Service Team leader. I understand you have a problem with your heating Mr…"_

"_Dr Keogh. Yes. My wife pays for the insurance specifically so when we have this problem we can get someone out to fix it right away."_

"_You understand that we are bound by certain rules when it comes to account security?"_

"_Samantha is in Afghanistan. She can't do anything about this and to be honest I'd rather not bother her with it. I can email you rental agreements to show I live at the address, I can even show you the electricity bill as I pay that. Please can you just sort it out?"_

"_I'll have to clear it with my supervisor. I have your number and I will call you back within half an hour."_

"_Fine."_

_Dylan hung up and leant back against the wall. Dervla whined and shifted so she was practically sitting on his lap. He rubbed her head absently. He would be so angry if Sam had to use some of her precious phone time to sort out this mess. He shook his head. He was not going to let that happen. He hadn't told her anything that had happened with Callum, or that he had stopped supervising junior doctors. She had enough to deal with out there without him adding to her burden. He didn't even know how to tell her. He had come close to it a few times, but he had finally decided that it was something he had best tell her face to face. _

_The phone rang again as Dylan paced angrily, glass of whisky in his hand to warm him up. Dervla was indistinguishable curled up in the duvet on the bed._

"_Hello."_

"_Dr Keogh. We're sorry about the delay and we'll send an engineer around as soon as possible."_

"_Thank you."_

"_I do recommend that your wife change her account options to include you when she comes back."_

_Dylan rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "A very astute observation I'm sure. How soon is as soon as possible?"_

"_An engineer is on his way now."_

"_Hallelujah."_

"_Is there anything else I can help you with sir?"_

"_Oh no you've been very helpful." Dylan said sarcastically and hung up. He wrapped himself and Dervla in the duvet and tried not to be angry at Sam for leaving him. He picked up the photo of her by his bedside and looked at her beautiful face and suddenly his anger was replaced by a deep and clawing longing to see her, so bad it was almost a physical pain. At that moment he reflected he had preferred the anger._

* * *

Holby City Hospital, 2012

"Dylan, will you take this patient for me?" She held out the file in a forced casual manner. "He's in resus."

"Why? Was it something he said?" He said in a teasing way, trying to figure out why Sam was acting so out of character. He looked at her closely and then scanned the file, hoping to find some answers to his wife's uncharacteristic sudden ability to ask for help.

The patient had been stabbed but it didn't look like it was too severe as his BP and oxygen sats were normal.

"He….I think he would prefer a male doctor." Dylan raised his eyebrows, uncertain why she was lying to his face.

"Why, it says here he was stabbed in the leg? Do you suspect other injuries in more… sensitive places?"

"No. Please can you just take him Dylan?" She said shortly.

"Fine."

Sam nodded and briskly exited CDU.

Intrigued, Dylan went down to Resus to see the patient, one Richard Wiston age 39.

"Hello, Mr Wiston, I'm Dr Keogh. Can I just have a look at your wound?"

"Be my guest mate. Where's the pretty doctor gone? She was well fit. If I weren't with my Amy I would be asking her number know what I mean?"

Dylan examined the wound carefully, noting that it was nothing serious and would not require surgery. He tried not to take the patients prattling seriously, but unable to stop the flash of possessiveness that went through him at the patients words. He decided to do the stitches himself; curious about why Sam had passed this patient over.

"Dr Nicholls is otherwise engaged, you'll have to make do with me. Has someone contacted your partner?" Dylan hoped someone had, he disliked calling relatives and there were no nurses around.

"She's my wife and there's no need mate, she's here somewhere. It's Amy that's bloody done this to me. I'm not gonna lie, we were having a bit of a row like but nothing out of the ordinary." Mr Wiston looked angry at the thought and Dylan had the measure of him straight away.

"Is she also receiving treatment?" Dylan had an idea of why Sam had passed her patient over. She was probably having trouble with her temper, she was a lot better than she had been when she first came back, but her control had slipped on a few occasions so far and it was good she was recognising the warning signs now. The last thing she needed was another GMC hearing due to violence.

"Yeah. She fell down the stairs. She was in here earlier and that pretty doctor had to pull her off me! She can be a bit difficult at times. Do you want to know what her latest is?" The patient blathered on and on and Dylan had nearly finished the stitches so he humoured him. "What?"

"She got herself pregnant without even asking me! I mean, she said it was an accident and everything but I told her I didn't want kids and she thought she knew better. Like she could look after a baby anyway. I was just doing the responsible thing. People who can't look after kids properly shouldn't have them."

The door to resus opened. "I quite agree." Dylan said finished with the stitches. He turned to see Sam looking at him with a stricken expression. He hoped Sam had taken in what the patient had said. Perhaps it would knock some sense into her.

Sam was holding the door open for a tall dark haired woman in a hospital gown with a bruise around her eye that would likely develop into a lovely shiner in a few more hours. She limped slightly as she approached Dylan's patient and Dylan was surprised Sam didn't follow her. His wife looked almost nervous and Dylan was forced to downgrade his opinion of how Sam was coping. She obviously wasn't doing as well as he thought.

"I just came to see you to tell you that you failed. My baby is fine. I can't believe I let this go on for so long. I'm leaving you. " The woman was shaking, with anger or fear Dylan couldn't tell.

"You'd never leave me. You love me. I'm all you've got." Mr Wiston said caught between fear and disbelief.

"Not anymore." Amy said venomously.

Mr Wiston looked at her for a moment; eyes narrowed and then lunged for her, jumping off the resus bed. He had her by the throat in an instant. Dylan grabbed the irate man and he sensed Sam behind him going for the woman.

"Let her go now!" He commanded, trying to bodily separate them. Sam hesitated, then seemed to find her sense and kicked out at one of his legs. Mr Wiston buckled, letting Amy go out of reflex. Sam swiftly dragged the woman away out of resus, leaving Dylan with a death grip on his still struggling patient who was breathing heavily.

"Calm down." He advised.

"She doesn't mean it. Jesus that pretty doctor packs a punch!" He clutched at his leg in pain.

Dylan looked at him annoyed. "This is a hospital not a boxing ring. If you step out of line again I will call security."

He examined the man's leg, which luckily seemed like it would just develop a bruise.

"You'll live." He pronounced trying hard not to sound disappointed.

"Sorry mate. Amy makes me so mad. I do love her though. She just makes me so angry." He paused, fiddling with his wedding ring.

"I can't be a dad. What if I hurt a baby like I hurt Amy? I don't know how to stop myself." He bowed his head.

Dylan sighed, realising he would actually have to talk to the patient about this. He hated the touchy feely stuff. He was awful at it. "This could be a turning point for you. There is help out there for you if you want it. I could refer you to an anger management program. Regardless of your relationship with Amy, you could still be a good father if you accept help."

The patient breathed in deeply. "Yes. I want help." He said tightly.

Dylan nodded. "I'll make you a referral."

He left resus, where he was unsurprised to see a member of security now lurking, observing resus through the doors.

He stopped at the desk to find the information for Richard Wiston's referral and picked up the phone to call before putting it down again abruptly.

"Have you seen Sam?" He asked Tess and Charlie who were deep in discussion.

"I think she's gone for her break." Tess said before going back to her discussion with Charlie.

Dylan picked up his file again and looked into the empty staffroom before making his way to the 'garden' outside.

Sam was sitting there on the stone bench, her arms wrapped around her, swamped in an oversized hoodie over her scrubs. Dylan sat down next to her silently, sitting on the patient file so it wouldn't blow away.

"Going to tell me?" He said shortly.

"What do you mean?" Sam said, fear in her eyes and Dylan realised how pale she was.

"Sam, we've been together for six years. I know when you're lying to me. I know when you're upset, even if I'm not good enough to know why."

"It's nothing. I have to get back to work." Dylan watched her go. Before the riot she would have talked to him. Now it seemed like they were further apart than ever.

* * *

Sam collected another patient file trying to bury her fear. This couldn't go on. She had to tell him tonight. If he was going to break up with her it had got to the point she just wanted it over with. God knows how they were going to work together this time. She felt like a mess. She had never before doubted Dylan would love their baby, even if he was angry with her. Now she wasn't so sure. She was angry at herself too. Dylan had been in danger and she had hesitated. She felt like she couldn't rely on herself anymore, couldn't predict her own reactions. It felt terrifying and she had no idea how to deal with it. One thing was for sure. She really needed to sort herself out. She knew that process would probably begin with telling Dylan the truth. She needed to know where she stood with him. She just didn't know if she was strong enough to actually say the words. She called her next patient, trying to bury her turmoil enough to function.

* * *

Sam awoke to the sunlight upon her face. She hadn't been able to tell him last night. She had been so exhausted and she just couldn't face an argument. She turned to regard her husband in the bed next to her. For once he wasn't facing away from her and she felt a sudden need to do something, anything to bridge the chasm between them. She shuffled closer and placed small butterfly kisses on his forehead, trailing down his face as his awareness increased. She got to his lips and he kissed her back without opening his eyes, his arm reaching for her and drawing her closer and Sam smiled as she kissed him, their kisses slowly becoming more passionate. Suddenly Dylan took control and flipped them over, covering Sam with his body. Sam was enjoying the feeling and she was certain Dylan was too until he stopped suddenly and pulled back. She opened her eyes and saw him considering her with almost a look of anger in his eyes. He pulled back abruptly and left the bed, going into the bathroom and slamming the door.

Sam watched him go, feeling utterly confused. She pulled the duvet closer around her, feeling exposed. He didn't want her at all then. She swiped listlessly at the tears making their way down her cheek, soaking into the pillow. She had made it clear how she felt and he had just rejected her. What more could she do? He had looked at her like she was betraying him somehow by initiating something. Sam had never felt like this before with him, she felt cheap.

She thought back to the moment she had decided to take a chance and try again with Dylan. She had obviously made a massive mistake and worse she now had no idea to get out of it without being hurt worse than she already was. She wanted to just leave, just walk out and never come back, but she couldn't do that. She needed this job if she was going to have to be a single mother. She didn't want to hurt Dylan, but he had obviously pulled away from her again and this time there wasn't even the excuse of the alcohol to blame. She had though they finally had a chance, she couldn't have got through the last few months without him. She wracked her brains back to the riots, trying to figure out anything she could have done differently but she came up empty. She heard the shower shut off and she scrambled up out of the bed, grabbing her workout clothes. She would take Dervy for a walk. She couldn't face Dylan yet. She just couldn't.

* * *

Sam sat on the floor of the living room, looking through the last box of her stuff. She was feeling very tired. Going back to work, even part-time, had been harder than she had anticipated. There was also the secret she was keeping which seemed like every day was getting worse and worse to keep. It was only her absolute fear of Dylan's reaction that was keeping her quiet. Every time she considered telling him she felt this odd crushing sensation which she was sure increased her heart rate. She had even started looking at articles on the effects of stress in early pregnancy. She was deathly afraid at some point she was going to have to take Linda's advice and take up yoga, either that or sit and watch some of Dylan's cricket matches, just to bore her into calmness.

Dylan was home, going through a pile of washing looking for his favourite shirt. If he thought Sam was going to offer to iron it he was sadly mistaken. Sam clutched her old jewellery box in her hand pensively. This was getting worse and worse. If he didn't say something soon, she would have to go. She couldn't take the silence and the distance anymore. After having him back completely, a return to the atmosphere of the previous low point of their marriage was too much for her to take along with everything else she was still struggling to deal with. The obstetrics team had arranged a scan for her in a few days time. She knew Dylan should really be there, it was his right after all. But telling him… she shook her head. It was beyond her at the moment.

Dylan picked up his shirt and then something seemed to catch his eye down the side of the sofa. He pulled it out and Sam recognised it as a sheet she had missed when she had put everything back in the airing cupboard.

"Hmm. We must have missed this one." He said and turned to leave, presumably to put the thing back in the airing cupboard.

Sam felt a jolt of pure panic. She didn't want him going anywhere near that. She shot to her feet. "I'll do it."

The world spun and didn't resolve and she could feel herself swaying, her vision becoming blurry.

"Sam!" She vaguely registered Dylan's arms catching her and anchoring her in one place before lowering her to the floor. The room spun sickeningly all around her and she closed her eyes before realising that it made her feel worse and also scared the hell out of Dylan, who shook her arm to make sure she was still conscious.

"Ugh, I'm fine." She said trying to reassure him.

"No you most certainly are not. We are going straight in to see Eleanora. This is worse than a few days after surgery. Have you had any other symptoms?"

Sam was beginning to come back to herself. She went to sit up but Dylan held her down. She fought off his hand and tried to sit up again and this time he helped her.

She felt awful and she realised that was the first time he seemed to actually care about her since the riots.

She pulled her knees up and rested her head on them. Dylan just seemed to be watching her, waiting for her to answer. She was going to have to tell him about the baby now. She had expected to have some warning and now the moment was finally here it was just too much and Sam burst into tears. Dylan reached out to comfort her.

"Don't touch me!" She shouted at him, unable to stop crying but unwilling to accept his pity when he was so clearly confused about their relationship.

"Sam?" he said, sounding upset.

"I know you don't want to touch me. I know you want a divorce. Just do me a favour and stop being a coward and bloody say so!" She looked at him. He looked shell shocked. "I can't take it anymore. I can't. Please Dylan. Just tell me."

"I don't! I don't. Why would you think that?" he said anguished

"You said if I left the boat it would be the end of us. And it has been. You don't even kiss me goodbye anymore. I know you Dylan. You've been avoiding me and you're working yourself up to an argument. Well my patience has run out. Just man up and spit it out."

"I know you haven't been taking your contraceptive." He said and Sam stared at him, completely confused. Whatever she had been expecting that was not it.

Sam dropped her head in her hands. "That's why?" She suddenly found the whole thing hilariously funny. She started to laugh, tears still running down her face.

"I don't think it's a laughing matter. You ignored my wishes Sam, not to mention your own medical knowledge. I don't want a divorce, but I'm angry with you." He said seriously.

"There was no point me taking it. That's why I wasn't taking it."

"What do you mean?"

"That you're apparently a good shot Keogh. One unprotected night was all it took."

He sat back. "Are you saying…?"

"About eight weeks yes." She stared at the look of utter shock on his face and the tears started again, developing into full on sobs. This was awful, not how she had ever imagined this moment playing out. She had wanted him to be happy. She was happy, despite the circumstances. Sam wanted their baby with all her heart. To know that he didn't was the worst feeling in the world.

She felt him come very close and he wrapped his arms around her. Sam felt conflicted. She wanted his arms around her like she never wanted anything else in her life, but she felt he shouldn't do that if he wasn't also going to accept their child

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He asked, his tone anguished again.

"Be…Because I messed up with the contraception and it was my fault. I knew I had messed up but I thought it would be okay and I got it wrong." She tried to stop her breath hitching with the sobs but she was too upset.

"It's a joint responsibility, it always has been. I was just so happy to have you back, my darling, that I didn't think about that." He said into her hair. She took a moment to breathe. He didn't seem angry. She chanced raising her head to look at him. He stared back at her, his blue eyes examining her carefully. "It's okay." He said quietly. "How are you feeling now?" He asked seeming to slip back into doctor mode.

"I'm fine. I got up too fast, it's just postural hypotension." She said truthfully, making a mental note to not do that again. She had never fainted in her life and would like that trend to continue.

"What else have you been coping with on your own?" He asked with concern.

Sam took a deep breath in. "A little pregnancy sickness. Fatigue. I think my breasts are getting bigger, so that's something." Dylan snorted with laughter. "I have an appointment for a dating scan on Wednesday. Are you going to be there?" She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

"Of course I am." He said vehemently "This is my baby too. And you're my wife; you're not doing this without me. I'm sorry. I'm just not very good at these kinds of conversations."

"I had noticed grumpy. I should have told you earlier. I should have trusted you. I was scared. Seems like I'm scared of lots of things these days." She said glumly.

"You've been doing very well. But there are two things you should be absolutely clear on from now on. One, I will never ever ask you for a divorce and secondly I love you, you know that don't you? More than anything else in the world. I always have." He looked her in the eye as he said it and Sam was struck by the connection those beautiful blue eyes gave her, like she was the most important person in the world.

She reached forward and put her arms around his neck and hung on, finally allowing a smile to escape.

* * *

_Plymouth, 2009_

_It was a couple of days before Christmas and Dylan was stuck trying to talk some idiot patient into treatment. He had arranged a theatre slot and got her a surgical team and yet she had buggered off to the off license down the road and had been about to knock back a large vodka for some Dutch courage. _

"_I don't see why you're acting like it's such a big deal. It's only a little drink to calm me down. It's nearly Christmas. God, you're miserable!" The woman sat back in her bed and crossed her arms stroppily, her manner more reminiscent of a much younger girl than the middle aged woman before him._

_Dylan clenched his fists at the infuriating woman's words. He was not miserable. "The NHS doesn't revolve around you. I arranged this operation for you because you need it, but if you don't want to get better why should I bother?" _

"_I'd like you to leave now. You're upsetting me." She said flicking her hair back and smiling at him in a spiteful manner._

"_This operation is important and it can't be done if you're three sheets to the wind. It's your choice."_

"_Oh bugger off you posh git. I don't like your tone."_

"_**My** tone?" He said._

_He picked up the glass of vodka she had poured and swirled it around. "Perhaps you have the right idea. Bollocks to everyone else. Let's just have a drink." He felt like he had come to the end of his patience, like his control was finally leaving him for good. The vodka was there in front of him and he really didn't care about anything anymore. This stupid woman in front of him, his job, anything. He had finally had enough. He downed it in one gulp. He didn't even notice the burn of the alcohol on his throat. _

"_You can't talk to me like that! You're not allowed to drink around patients! I want to make a complaint." The woman said gleefully._

"_Fine. But you'll still be a self-centred idiot. I'm going home. Good luck to you." Dylan said, not particularly caring. This was it. He had made his decision. _

"_What…what about my operation? I'm sorry?" She shouted after him as he walked away, but he didn't stop._

_He took off his ID badge and stethoscope as he walked. He left them on Dr Donald's desk and left, leaving his jeep at the hospital and walking home. He felt freer somehow, like now he had made the decision a great weight had been lifted off him. He listened to the din of the city around him._

_Dylan had never liked cities. His happiest times had been spent at school or at his grandparents home, both rural locations. Dylan had accepted living in a city as a natural result of his choice of profession, you had to go where the big hospitals were and they were always in cities and large towns. _

_It was time to change all that._


	20. Chapter 20

The Damage We Do – Chapter 20

* * *

So, Hi!

This chapter is extremely late, I'm so sorry and I'm so thankful to those reviewers who kept me motivated and writing now my schedule is crazy again. Thanks especially to Missrach989 who made me give her deadlines, which I missed but moved me along anyway! I apologise to the amazing reviewers who I have not replied to, I love reading the reviews and they really help me, but I've become rubbish at replying to them as my workload has increased again, sorry!

Anyway, as always I'm not a doctor and if you are, forgive me!

Thanks as always to the excellent people who reviewed, Ficmouse, Callie Rawston BrookeMarie2604, the guest reviewers and casualty . hp . 11, who I keep trying to thank each time, but fanfic keeps deleting your penname from the text (I'm hoping putting in the extra spaces will sort it!)

Song Sam is listening to while running is Plan B – Ill Manors.

Would love to know what you think!

* * *

Holby 2012,

Dylan watched his wife move across the E.D. every bit as graceful as before. She burst energetically through the doors into resus and disappeared from his view. Since she had told him about her pregnancy and they had talked, she seemed to have regained some of her old spark, which was simultaneously worrying, heartening and enormously guilt inducing. He could still scarcely believe they were going to be parents. It was such an odd concept, that their baby was growing inside Sam at this very moment. He knew the anatomy and physiology of it of course, but the reality was somewhat more difficult to get his head around. He hated that he had been the one to make her feel so upset over the past couple of weeks and vowed to make it up to her however he could.

Dylan made his excuses in plenty of time, Sam, who was finishing work then anyway changed back from her scrubs into her normal clothes and both of them removed their ID badges to avoid drawing attention to themselves in the waiting room. Dylan was going for Sam, not so some neurotic mother to be could question him about exactly what kind of yoga was acceptable during pregnancy.

They sat in the waiting area with a mix of young people, couples, mums with children and also one teenager who was so young it looked like she was there with her mum. Sam seemed to fidget next to him and he grasped her hand, sensing she was nervous. She took a deep breath and held onto it tightly but only stilled for a moment before shifting uncomfortably, the water she had been told to drink before the scan was obviously causing her problems. Dylan didn't envy her one bit.

"Samantha Keogh?" The older midwife called them in.

Sam rose, grabbing her bag from the seat next to her but not letting go of his hand. He followed her in and she let go of his hand when she was told to sit up on the bed.

"I'm Kelly; I'm one of the midwives who work with women who are at a bit of a higher risk than usual. It's nothing to worry about but it does mean you'll be a bit more closely watched than usual, okay Samantha?"

Sam nodded.

"And I'm assuming this is dad?" Kelly said scanning through Sam's file at rapid speed.

Dylan felt a jolt of fear go through him at the casual comment. He was going to be someone's Dad. Oh God. Now he felt like he was the one who needed a hand to hold.

He realised he hadn't responded.

"Dylan." He said simply.

"Nice to me meet you Dylan, it's nice to see straight off that you have partner that wants to be involved. Now Samantha, did you drink your water?"

"Yes, unfortunately." She said with a grimace.

"Okay, if you can lower your trousers a little and lie back we'll have a little look. Let's get this done and you can pop to the loo before we sort out the paperwork, okay?"

Sam lay back, appearing to believe that was a good plan. The midwife bustled about and Dylan was momentarily amused at the look on Sam's face as the cold ultrasound gel hit her stomach. He found himself holding his breath as the Kelly moved the probe around, looking for a good picture and sound. Dylan had seen and performed many ultrasounds but never had the results seemed so important. He was torn between wishing for that picture to appear and wishing Sam had got it wrong somehow and she wasn't going to have to put herself through this. If it came to a choice between Sam and a baby he would chose Sam every time. There would be plenty of time to think about children when she was completely recovered. Doing it this way was taking a needless risk and Dylan was quite aware of the many problems Sam was risking. He found himself reaching for Sam's hand, wanting to convey his feelings to her somehow. She returned his grip, and he went back to watching the ultrasound screen carefully.

There!

The midwife had seen it too, she moved back to where she had been and a beautiful, regular sound filled the small examination room. Dylan breathed out and he felt Sam do the same as the probe picked up their baby's heartbeat. The midwife held the probe steady with one hand and performed the usual measurements automatically with the little roller ball on the ultrasound console with the other. Sam craned her neck to see the picture.

"I'd say you were around nine weeks, does that sound about right?"

Sam nodded, still transfixed by the indistinct picture on the screen.

"I'll work out your due date for you now. Would you like a couple of prints to take with you?"

"Yes." Dylan said as Sam was still distracted and the midwife busied herself.

Kelly took away the ultrasound probe and wiped the gel off Sam's stomach. "The toilet is just down the hall on the right." Sam looked at her gratefully and proceeded to disappear leaving Dylan alone with the midwife. "So is this your first?"

"Yes." Dylan replied

"How much support does Samantha have?"

"She has me. Her mother is dead and she doesn't have much contact with her father. I don't speak to my family."

"Well a supportive partner is worth twenty interfering aunties, don't worry. We may as well get your part of the form filled in. Are you and Samantha married?"

"She prefers Sam and yes, for nearly four years."

"Okay, and what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a consultant over in the E.D." Dylan said, coming clean.

Kelly laughed. "Right, okay. Do you and Sam have a permanent address?"

"Yes. We rent a houseboat over at the dock." He gave her the address and the midwife wrinkled her nose.

"Hmm. You might want to consider looking for a something a bit more child-friendly?"

Dylan frowned. He hadn't considered moving. It wasn't really necessary, he thought.

"Any pets?" The midwife moved on.

"We have a dog, but she's very good with children."

"No cats?"

"No." Dylan disliked cats and at least Sam would not have to worry about the risk of toxoplasmosis.

The door opened and Sam came back in looking a lot more relaxed and took the seat the midwife indicated by her desk.

"So Sam, you were referred to the high risk team because you had a craniotomy within the last three months. That makes you higher risk but it doesn't necessarily mean you have any problems. We'll just monitor you a little closer than normal, okay?"

Sam nodded.

"So first of all, forms!" The midwife grimaced. "Dylan has helped me with his part."

Sam shot him an amused look. "So, firstly, what's your occupation Sam?"

"I'm a doctor in the E.D." She said.

"Okay, what kind of hours do you work?"

"Part-time at the moment. I've only been back a few weeks after my medical leave for my injury."

"Have you told your supervisor about your pregnancy yet?"

"No." Sam said. She looked like she was not looking forward to that.

"We'll tell her together." Dylan said, trying to reassure her. He didn't want her worrying over something as trivial as that.

"Great. It's best for your colleagues to be aware. Things like reducing dislocations, extensive CPR, dealing with the more volatile patients should be off the menu for you from now on. I know how it can get in A & E."

"I'll make sure she isn't exposed to any unnecessary risks." Dylan said and Sam looked at him with apprehension.

"Do you have any other health problems I need to be aware of?"

"I have a little hearing damage. Is it alright if you email me instead of phone if you need to speak to me?" Sam said matter of factly.

We can do that. Your referral letter didn't mention that. So how have your pregnancy symptoms been generally?"

"Okay. The usual, a bit of pregnancy sickness, usually more nausea than actual vomiting. Ginger biscuits usually settle me down. I've been feeling tired and I've had a little postural hypotension. I have just noticed I need to urinate more regularly too."

Sam sounded annoyed at that.

"Right, that's all normal. How have your moods and emotions been? Pregnancy can mean they're all over the place."

Dylan's pager bleeped loudly. "Not a moment's peace!" He grumbled as he got it out. He held it in his hand.

"You should answer that." Sam said idly.

"It can wait a minute." Dylan said, annoyed. He had told Zoe he had to go out for a bit and she hadn't seemed impressed. It probably was just her reminder that he had an actual job to do.

The midwife smiled at Sam. "Not bad is he? Got his priorities right. I can see this baby is going to be spoiled rotten by his daddy."

Sam looked uncomfortable at this and Dylan wondered what was going through her mind.

Something seemed to have spooked her as she hurried the appointment to a close and took off quickly, nearly leaving without her brand new folder containing her maternity notes which she would have to take to each appointment.

"In a rush?" Dylan said, striding after her.

"It's going to rain. I want to get back and take Dervy for a walk before it does. You need to get back to work." She seemed to be in a rush to get away from him too and Dylan didn't like that at all.

"I know. Can I steal something off you before you go?" He caught her hand as she went to walk away.

Sam allowed herself to be pulled back towards him. "What?"

He pulled the folder with her maternity notes off her gently. The midwife had placed the scan photos in there. He pulled out one and looked at it, uncertain of his feelings towards the photo, but sure it meant something huge. He looked down at Sam and saw she was watching him carefully, holding her breath as though waiting for the axe to fall.

He met her gaze and she looked away.

"Right. I have to go. See you later." Sam left and Dylan looked down at the indistinct photo, trying to decide how he felt about this. His pager beeped again. This wasn't the time. He had to get back to work; he would speak to Sam later, when he hopefully would have a better idea of exactly what to say.

* * *

_Aldershot, 2010_

_Sam looked around the car park anxiously. She couldn't see him at all and she worried whether she had told him the right time. Maybe the traffic was bad. Then her stomach flipped, there was the familiar elderly jeep which looked like it had lately been treated to a beautiful mud wash. In front of it was Dylan, scanning the milling crowd of military personnel and families in an uncomfortable manner. He hated public displays of affection, to be surrounded by so many of them was probably his idea of hell. Dervla was there too, sitting calmly by her master's side. _

_Sam considered sneaking up on him for about a second before she realised she was already jogging towards him and she really couldn't be bothered with any of that rubbish. She barely registered that he was moving towards her too before they met and her bag dropped out of her hands, which were then occupied in trying to squeeze the life out of her husband. She pulled back and met his eyes and they shared one of the longest kisses she had ever gotten out of Dylan in public. She could feel Dervla circling around her legs and she clearly resented being forgotten, signalling this clearly as she started to nudge her nose in between them in a determined fashion._

_Dylan pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers. _

"_You remember me then?" Sam said cheekily._

"_You look familiar somehow…" Dylan shot back._

_Dervla barked and they both looked down. Sam thought it was the first time she had ever heard her bark. She disengaged from Dylan and crouched down and stroked Dervla and the dog whined with excitement, tail wagging a mile a minute._

"_Hello Dervy. You definitely remember me don't you! I've missed you, you smelly little hound."_

"_She's not smelly." Dylan objected. "I gave her a bath yesterday in honour of the occasion."_

_Sam looked up at him smiling; she would have loved to have seen that. "How did it go?"_

"_It was a success, if by success you mean I got wetter than the dog." He picked up her bag and put it in the jeep. "So home for a Chinese and an early night?" He said hopefully._

_Sam considered him. If that was going to be their reunion tradition it sounded like a good plan._

"_You know how to treat a girl." They got in the jeep but Sam sensed Dylan was uneasy. She knew he hadn't been telling her everything over the phone; he tried so hard to be positive every time they spoke._

"_What is it?" She said, stopping him from pulling off._

"_I got a new job." He said, looking like that was the understatement of the century._

"_Really? Where?"_

"_It's a little place, Carybrooke. They needed a new GP so I applied. It's closer to your base and to Jess and Millie. It's in the country."_

"_A GP?" Sam was genuinely shocked. It was the last thing she had expected him to say._

"_Yes." Dylan stared out of the windscreen._

"_Did something happen? I thought you loved Plymouth?" She turned to face him with concern._

"_I didn't. I couldn't stay there. I just didn't realise till now." He said avoiding her eyes like a pro. _

_Sam couldn't help the noise of disbelief that escaped her. She had given up her dream placement because she hadn't wanted to force him to move and now he had moved on his own. Typical. Her CO had been right. It wasn't Dylan's fault of course, he had never known about it, but it still hurt. She was silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to get whatever it was that had happened out of her husband. Something must have happened; she couldn't imagine him leaving Plymouth otherwise._

"_So. A GP." She repeated slowly._

"_Yes." He stared ahead, not looking at her, seeming to a casual observer like he didn't care at all about her reaction._

_Sam was properly confused, Dylan was so bright it was painful; his mind was always busy, always working. To imagine him as a country GP humouring hypochondriac old ladies was wrong somehow. He enjoyed working in an E.D. because not only did the interesting cases come to him, but they also often came with a time limit as they reached the E.D. as the problem became so acute it could be a race against time to diagnose properly. Being a GP involved all the things Dylan hated, like humouring patients, talking to them and listening to their problems, even if they weren't necessarily medical. Something really awful must have happened. She considered the way he was holding tight to the steering wheel. She was happy to see him; she had been looking forward to this day for months. The last thing she wanted to do was interrogate him when he was clearly so sensitive about it. They had ages to talk properly._

_She placed her hand on his arm."Sounds lovely. Carybrooke I mean. I'd like to see it." She said breezily._

_Dylan finally relaxed and turned to face her. "You will." _

_Sam let it go. She relaxed as Dylan drove them a different route than usual, leaving the main roads behind and following country lanes. She perked up as she caught a sign directing them to Carybrooke. She had wanted to see it of course but at the moment she had been promised food and bed and she was quite looking forward to both. They passed through a small high street, complete with pub, post office and shop. She could see a sign for a school turning off one of the roads. Dylan slowed down and turned off sharply into a wide driveway with a marked parking spaces for several cars. The building was a large house with what looked like a big garden. 'The Hollies Surgery" the sign said. Sam did a double take as she looked again at one of the cars parked in front of the house. It was hers, which she had left parked in front of their building in Plymouth._

"_Dylan?" She said staring at her car and trying to get her tired mind around what was going on here. Why had he moved her car here?_

"_Oh, yes. We've moved too." He said sheepishly._

_Sam was speechless. The house clearly doubled as a surgery; nevertheless it was large enough the living space was probably many times the space of their little flat. She had been coaxing him to buy a house. It looked like he had finally done it, albeit in dramatic style. She didn't know whether to hug him or hit him. He didn't even ask, her at all. Just because she was out of the country, it didn't mean she didn't care, she should still get a vote. She would still have to live here most of the time after all. She studied it silently. He had finally done what she had been trying to get him to do though and that was huge. She forgave him on the spot._

"_What do you think?"_

_She smiled. "It's ours?" Sam said, hardly able to believe it._

"_Yes. I rent the house and surgery from the previous GP. He retired to the South of France, bit of a character by all accounts."_

_Sam's heart sank and she let her eyes drop to study her hands, trying to control her disappointment. Of course it wasn't theirs. Why had she even let herself think that? She had just hoped Dylan had been finally ready to make the commitment. She supposed if her being away for four months straight didn't do it, nothing would. She turned away, afraid Dylan would read her distress on her face. She swallowed and tried not to let him see she was upset. _

"_Are you going to show me around then?" She said avoiding his eyes and rubbing her hands together in the cold winter air. _

_He nodded "It's got a garden for Dervla. There are even some sheep in the field next to us which sometimes jump the fence." He smiled at her and he seemed happier than she had seen him in ages._

"_Jump the fence?" She said incredulously stopped dead by this odd piece of information. "Do they think they're horses?"_

"_You mock, but the little buggers are surprisingly nippy when they want to be!"_

_She smiled at the odd mental image despite the dull pain in her heart as he walked in through the unlocked front door. The wood panelled entrance hall was clearly adapted into two doorways, one door with a glass window marked reception, the other solid and marked private. The hallway was covered in the usual NHS posters about quitting smoking and healthy eating._

_The door to the surgery opened and a red head poked out. "Dr Keogh, you're back. Hello." She addressed Sam, eyeing her curiously._

"_Sam, this is Gemma, my receptionist. Gemma this is my wife, Samantha." Dylan said. The young woman, who was quite pretty looked disappointed for a moment before brightening quickly._

"_Dr Keogh, you didn't say you were married! It's nice to meet you. And you're in the army?" She enquired politely taking in Sam's uniform quickly. _

"_Yes. I'm a doctor too." Sam replied equally politely._

_Gemma nodded. "We haven't seen you around before. Been anywhere interesting? I bet you get to see some places in the army."_

"_I've just got back from Afghanistan. I'm glad to be…back." Sam almost said home but realised as she thought it that this wasn't what she had been imagining her home to be like for the last four months at all, but she was determined to make the best of it. She moved closer to Dylan as she thought about some of the boys she had treated out there who wouldn't ever be coming back to their loved one. _

"_Oh. Well, don't let me keep you." Gemma said apologetically." I was just leaving. Mr Harley's test results are back doctor. I'll see you tomorrow" She addressed Dylan before locking the door behind her and leaving._

"_So you've acquired a pretty young receptionist. Smooth, grumpy." Sam commented unable to resist the opportunity to tease him, wanting to get back into their familiar pattern and still feeling like there was a strange awkwardness between them._

"_I think she's older than you actually. And much as I'd like to take the credit, I inherited Gemma from Dr Hartman. She's just the right mix of agony aunt and guard dog for a doctor's receptionist, and she's the only one who knows where anything is. I do feel a little surrounded to be honest. Gemma and the district nurses who run a clinic from here on Tuesdays are the only colleagues I see. All ladies. It's awful, just awful." He mocked and Sam hit him on the arm._

_He turned away from her and unlocked the door and Sam didn't know what to expect. He couldn't have moved everything from their flat and unpacked it all on his own could he?_

_They entered into a wide hallway. A large staircase was at the far end. Dylan caught her hand and led her into the first room. It was huge reception room, with windows on the front and side of the house giving so much light. They could have fitted their entire flat into this one room. There were boxes all over the place, mostly untouched. Sam scrutinised them carefully. A lot of the things that had been in their lounge weren't here. So where were they? Dylan didn't seem to be bothered by her silence. _

"_Come on, you'll like the next room." He pulled her past the doors opposite and down to the door at the end of the corridor past the stairs. He covered her eyes and she was intrigued._

"_Voila!" He said and removed his hands. Sam was looking at a massive kitchen, with a dining table and their sofas from their flat set in one corner. The kitchen was very country style, not what she would have chosen, but the high ceilings, light and the beautiful view made up for it. She loved it. Dylan had obviously listened to her at some point, even if it was not really theirs. _

"_This is amazing!" She exclaimed, trying to take in all the details, from the double patio doors that led to the garden, to Dervla's basket in the corner by one of the sofas. Dervla herself was sitting on the sofa and Sam could see in the time she had been away Dylan had obviously been letting her get away with murder._

_She was drawn to the patio doors and they opened easily. Dylan followed her as she walked out onto the paved area. The garden was not much wider than the house, but it seemed very long, stretching away from the house and getting progressively wilder until Sam couldn't see the end of it. It was huge and was protected from view from the patients by a high fence and some strategically planted hedges._

"_How is it going, now the patients know how to find you?" She said teasingly_

"_It's been challenging. I think I've established some boundaries now. The most irritating thing is firstcare. The doctors in this area used to cover each others patients in the night and on weekends. Now it's the firstcare service out of hours and on weekends. Mostly locum doctors, some of them foreign with little English and they usually mess up my carefully thought through and personalised treatment plan so quickly they must see stars. So much so I have been answering out of hours calls myself. Not this week though, I promise. I'm all yours"_

_Sam looked up at the imposing house. It was huge, a proper family home. It must be lonely with just him and Dervla here. Perhaps that was why he had been answering the out of hours calls himself._

"_Where's our bedroom then?" She said looking up at the windows above them. Dylan pointed up at the group of windows directly above the kitchen._

"_Let me show you." He offered his hand and she took it, allowing the feel of his hand in hers to soothe her disappointment at her wish for a home being put off yet again._

* * *

Holby, 2012

Sam turned to Dylan with apprehension. "When are we going to do it then?"

He couldn't help feeling amused. "We're talking with a colleague, not robbing a bank. It will be fine." Sam huffed and went off in the direction of the staff toilets. Dylan knew they had to tell Zoe as soon as possible, it was rare that Sam worked when he wasn't here mostly because he did so many more hours than she did, but he needed to know Zoe would look out for her too. He hoped Zoe wasn't too angry with them for not telling her earlier, though hopefully she would understand Sam had taken weeks just to tell him. Truth be told, he was tempted to just tell Zoe without Sam there, but he had a feeling that would be a sure fire way to royally piss Sam off.

He left his coat in his locker and got two coffees and went in search of Zoe. No harm in sweetening her up, after all.

"For you."

"Oh. Thanks." Zoe said with a smile.

"Sam and I would like a word when you have a minute." He said, already uncomfortable just thinking about it.

"Both of you together? You haven't got her pregnant have you?" She said mischievously. Dylan nearly dropped his coffee. Zoe took one look at his face and the penny dropped.

"Dylan!" She hissed sounding shocked.

"It's not…" He grabbed her arm and led her away from prying ears. "It's not as bad as you're making it sound."

"Really? You were in my office a couple of weeks ago telling me she had PTSD!"

"As it turned out we had a bit of a misunderstanding. Look, shall I go and get Sam so we can have that word now?"

Zoe nodded emphatically before taking a long swig of her coffee. "My office five minutes."

He grabbed Sam, who was just about to call her first patient and led her up to Zoe's office.

"What's wrong?" She said upon seeing his face.

"She knows."

"How?" Sam said, looking apprehensive again.

"I have no idea. I said we wanted a word and she just…. said it!" They reached Zoe's office and Dylan knocked for once.

"Come in. Ah Sam. I hear congratulations are in order. "

"Yes. I just wanted to apologise for not letting you know sooner. It wasn't my intention to lie to you but I couldn't tell you before I had told Dylan." Sam said before Dylan could say anything.

Zoe looked at her sharply. "You knew when you took the job?"

"Yes."

"Do you know how far along you are?"

"Nine weeks." Sam said.

Zoe sat back. "Right. Light duties, no lifting etc and if you feel like a patient could become physical, even if its Gladys aged eighty-five with dementia, you pass her along, okay?"

"Absolutely." Sam said.

"Have your obstetrician or neurologist given you any specific instructions which would limit your practice?"

"No, other than what you've already covered. Listen Zoe, I appreciated you giving me a job. I didn't mean to make things more difficult for you."

"Sam, I'm not angry with you. I'm just concerned. If at any time you're having difficulties, ask for help, okay? Any member of staff here, not just Dylan and I, will be happy to help you okay?"

"Thank you." Sam said politely.

"You can go. Not you, Dylan." Zoe said with irritation, leaning back to perch on the desk.

"Did you know she was pregnant when she started back here?"

Dylan dropped into the chair in front of the desk. "No. She told me a few days ago."

Zoe paused, thinking. "What are her chances?" Dylan blinked at Zoe, not understanding the question. "Of carrying the pregnancy to term? I don't even want to think about what kind of medication she was on when she conceived." Dylan felt a stab of fear at the question which he tried to keep off his face, pretending to brush something off his trousers.

"She was off all the known teratrogens, I checked. She stands a good chance or so the obs consultant told me off the record, if there are no complications."

Zoe got up and came around the desk, perching on the edge of it. "Dylan, you can't bury your head in the sand. You told me she had borderline PTSD. Now you're either adding a miscarriage or a new possibly premature baby into the mix. This is a nightmare."

"Yes, alright Zoe! I am aware of that." Dylan said sharply, taking a deep breath to try and control the panic he felt at Zoe's words. "You're missing one other crucial element from your oh so complete summary."

"What's that?" Zoe said, her manner having become slightly more sympathetic at his outburst.

"The person who sent the suicide bomber was obsessed with Sam and is at large and considered to be a threat. Sam was informed he might try and come here to kill her." Dylan said. "Her father helpfully gave her a gun."

Zoe leaned back, looking shocked. "Bloody hell. You two don't do things by halves do you?" Another thought seemed to occur to her. "She's not brought the gun to work has she?" Zoe said, obviously wondering if the NHS had a form OSHIT5N: crazy foreign national shot on hospital premises by member of medical staff.

"No." Dylan said affronted. Zoe raised her eyebrows. "Yes alright, I suppose it's not that silly. I assume the hospital is safe as her father knows she is back at work. I don't anticipate the E.D. being blown sky high anytime soon."

"Right. And what percentage of things being blown sky high do you think are anticipated?" Zoe said sarcastically.

"Fair point. He insinuated he had this under control. Sam doesn't seem that worried. She seems to think the guy will just stay in Pakistan taking pot shots at the ISAF forces instead of appearing in Holby."

"What do you think?"

"Her father showed us photos of some of the things this man has done. He was obsessed with a medic before Sam who didn't leave the base. So he left her presents, patients who had just enough life in them to be worth trying to save but who all died within an hour of getting to Bastion. He even carved some kind of weird symbol into the palm of their hands, like a signature. I've never seen anything like it before in my life. This man is not to be underestimated Zoe."

"And he wants Sam." Zoe said softly.

"Yes." Dylan said, feeling like to get the word out was an achievement in itself.

He met his friends eyes as she looked for the first time as if she didn't know what to say. She looked away. "Get me a photo of him. I'll make sure every security guard and porter can recognise him on sight. We'll do what we can."

Dylan nodded and left, knowing that wouldn't be anywhere enough if the worst was to happen.

* * *

Dylan fumed as Zoe walked away. This was her idea of punishing him for the situation with Sam. So now he had a young baby in his arms and couldn't do any work for the next hour and a half. He shifted the little girl awkwardly. Zoe really knew how to make him uncomfortable. He had only just found out about his own impending parenthood and now he was literally coming face to face with it. He wasn't really sure how he felt about Sam's news. He had decided a couple of years ago that he wasn't really father material and he had come to terms with that. He had wanted children with Sam when they had first married but as time had gone on and their lives had become more complicated he had seen that they didn't really have the environment in which to raise a child.

Now it wasn't a decision anymore, it was inevitability. Dylan had never thought this would be something that would happen to them. Sam had always been so careful; they had never even had a scare. To find out Sam was accidentally pregnant was odd. He had always considered people who found themselves in this situation to be a bit silly, a bit disorganised, or not as committed to their family planning as they should be. To have to hold his hands up to Zoe and say they had made an error exactly as many other couples had done over the years felt humiliating.

The infant shifted in his arms and Dylan tightened his grip. He loved Sam, he was sure of that. If this baby was part him and part Sam he couldn't help but love it, could he? But that wasn't the main part of the battle, was it? He could love the baby all he wanted but Dylan was realistic. For all he was in control now, he was and always would be a recovering alcoholic. That would never go away. No child deserved a parent like that. Seeing his own mother's problem with alcohol dependency and the pain it had caused he felt a sick sense of apprehension at his own son or daughter seeing him like that. It was like a car crash waiting to happen and the worse thing was he had no idea how to stop it from happening without losing Sam too.

He shifted the baby uncomfortably and tried to pass her along, first to the porter and then to Tom, who was having none of it, but did provide him with a baby carrier so he could 'go hands-free' as he gleefully put it. He wandered back to the cubicle area disconsolately. The baby seemed to have settled down and was now sleeping peacefully. She was quite cute really, and quite a calm baby. Millie had been the same when she was small, though she was growing up into quite the little madam which he supposed was unavoidable as she was very likely to remain an only child. He spotted Sam at the computer on the island in the middle of the admin area as he came towards it. She finished with the computer and came towards him, doing a double take. She looked around, before coming closer.

"There's a sight I thought I'd never see!" She said jokingly, but there was a downcast edge to her voice too and Dylan realised he must look less than happy. He tried to hide his inner turmoil from his wife, who had enough to deal with at the moment.

"Would you like a go? She's no trouble." He offered, watching the considering way she was looking at him with the baby.

"No, no, I wouldn't want to interrupt a beautiful thing." She smiled at him and Dylan felt like he had given her the wrong impression somehow as she walked away looking happier.

* * *

Dylan got off the phone to Jess as Sam was laid out on the sofa, half reading a journal article, half watching don't tell the bride. She had an appalled look on her face as she considered the grooms choice of bridesmaid dresses. He was uncertain what to say to Sam. Finally he decided it was best to just, as she often advised him, spit it out.

"Millie had chicken pox after we had her for the evening last month."

"Did she?" Sam said without looking up. "Poor little thing. Still it's best to get it over with."

"Sam. She had chicken pox! Have you had it?" Dylan couldn't help the anxiety in his tone; ever since Jess had mentioned it he had been worrying about it silently.

"Yes. I had it when I was little." She looked at him closely. "Dylan I knew I was pregnant then, I would never have agreed to take Millie if there was even a chance she had been near the virus if I hadn't."

Dylan sat down on the sofa. "Good." He was confused to find he felt a massive sense of relief. Why was he feeling like that? He was feeling at best conflicted about becoming a father, so why had what Jess said nearly made his heart stop? It was Sam, it must be, she was so excited about becoming a mother he had been afraid anything wrong with the baby would hurt her. That must be it.

* * *

"I need to start running again." Sam said, regarding a pair of jeans with annoyance as they got dressed.

"Why?" Dylan said carelessly in a tone that suggested he wasn't really listening.

"Because my jeans don't fit anymore!" She said unable to help a hint of a whine seeping into her tone. "They're my favourite."

She looked towards Dylan and was enraged to find him smirking at her.

"It's not funny."

He sighed theatrically and turned towards her, his shirt only half done up and put his hands on his hips. "And why do you think your jeans no longer fit you? Have you developed a secret doughnut habit?"

"Very funny." Sam said, no longer sure if she was being ridiculous or not.

He came up behind her and grabbed her around the waist and pulled and Sam couldn't help letting out a yelp of surprise as they both toppled back onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" She said, but couldn't help but smile at the grin on Dylan's face.

She hit him in the arm. "This is serious!"

He responded by pulling up her shirt and running his hand over her stomach. "Hmm, you do seem to have put on a bit of weight, oddly all in this area, very strange." He pretended to be examining her carefully. "Mrs Keogh, I think you might just be pregnant!"

"Shut up." Sam said pushing him off and jumping up again. She regarded herself in the mirror. "This is your fault you know. So you have to promise to still love me when I'm fat."

"Er...why is it my fault? Twelve weeks ago I seem to remember you being there too…" He trailed off at the look on her face.

"Who gets the morning sickness? Stretch marks? Weight gain? Labour pains? Oh that's right, that would be me. So you get the blame grumpy, and you'll take it like a man."

Dylan looked like he was considering that. "Yes fair enough."

He finished buttoning his shirt and Sam did her hair.

"You're not really going to start running again are you?"

"Why not?" Sam said defiantly.

"Many reasons and you already know all of them."

"I'll be careful not to push myself." Dylan didn't say anything but looked at her sceptically. "I can do that, you know."

He seemed to come to a snap decision "I'm coming with you."

"What?" Sam turned back to him, confused.

"I'm going to run with you, to make sure you aren't overexerting yourself." He said grimly.

"Dylan, you're not a runner. When was the last time you ran properly, school?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does! You can't just get up one day and decided to go on a ten mile run!"

"Obviously I'm going with you to make sure you don't run ten bloody miles on your first day back!"

"Well you aren't exactly the sportiest of people." She said sceptically.

"I was on a sports team at school and university." Dylan said in a wounded tone.

"You were on the cricket team. Matches are played over three to five days. Not exactly intense."

"For the last time, cricket is…" He took a deep breath. "I'm coming with you and you'll wear a heart rate monitor to make sure your heart rate stays at a safe level. You were very lucky the last time you went for a run that you didn't end up collapsing somewhere in the middle of nowhere with another bleed."

That stopped Sam in her tracks somewhat. She remembered how awful she had felt then. "I'm a lot better now."

"Yes, but add a pregnancy into the mix and things aren't quite so clear cut are they?"

"Dylan…." Sam started to ask him but changed her mind. Sometimes, the way he put things she wondered if he wanted this baby at all. She shook her head as she regarded him with an evil smile. "Okay, you can come running with me. But you have to promise me you won't complain."

"Fine." Dylan said, going back to what he was doing. Sam smirked. He didn't have a clue. This was going to be great.

* * *

Later that week Sam strode towards the front entrance of the E.D. She felt great, her fatigue and nausea was a distant memory and she had enjoyed her first day back running though she had been careful not to push herself. She looked back to Dylan. "Keep up Keogh"

Dylan limped along behind her, grimacing. "I'm never doing that ever again. I can't walk."

"What did we agree about complaining?" Sam said cheerily. It was a lovely and sunny September day, reflecting her mood.

"I'm not complaining. I was just stating facts." Dylan said grumpily.

"There was a definite tone of complaint to your tone."

"You were imagining it, I assure you. One question?"

Sam stopped and he did too with a sigh of relief. She waited expectantly for him to continue. "How on earth do you find that fun?"

She smiled at him and linked her arm through his. "It is fun grumpy and you know why, unless you skipped that class in med school. It's a simple biological process, but like I said, you pushed yourself too hard for your first time. Next time we'll take it a little slower, now you're convinced of your limits."

He looked at her incredulously. "Next time? Are you insane? I appreciate the ability to walk too much to try that again. I think perhaps I should take up golf again."

"Quitter." Sam said wickedly and he glared at her. Sam grabbed his scarf from where it was slung around his neck. "Wouldn't you like to be able to catch me?"

Dylan regarded her coolly as Sam retreated to a safe distance. Then he lunged, with a speed Sam wouldn't have thought possible considering the time it had taken him to gingerly get dressed that morning. He caught her but she held the scarf out of his reach laughing. He jumped for it, his greater height allowing him to rescue it even as he let out a pained groan at the strain in his muscles.

"Sorry." Sam said, finally feeling sorry for him. He wrapped his arms around her trapping her.

"There will be revenge for this you know."

"Am I going to have to separate you two?" Zoe said as she walked past them, smirking at them.

They exchanged a look before Dylan let her go and resumed a professional distance from her, this time with a firm hand on his scarf. Sam laughed and walked ahead.

* * *

_The Hollies, Carybrooke, 2010_

_Millie had crawled under the table and was sitting there giggling loudly as Sam pretended to look for her._

"_Sam." Jess said, scooping Millie up who pouted in disappointment at having her game disrupted. "I wanted to talk to you both together. It's about Millie."_

_Sam sat down on the sofa next to her and Millie crawled from her mothers lap to hers, fascinated by Sam's long necklace._

"_What about her?" Dylan said. He seemed to be giving Jess a warning look of some kind. Sam realised for the first time he seemed uncomfortable, not only with Jess but almost self conscious with Millie too. What had she missed?_

_Jess took a deep breath. "I've asked Carly to adopt Millie. She and I have been together a while and now Millie is getting older it makes sense we make things official It will mean more stability for her and Carly is a much better parent than Chris will ever be in his wildest dreams, even if he was at all close to release, which he thankfully isn't. Obviously that means if anything happens to Millie you won't have to look after her. She'll stay with Carly. That doesn't mean I don't want you in Millie's life and that I'm not grateful for what you agreed to do for me. You're still our closest family."_

_She seemed to be speaking to Dylan more than Sam. Sam didn't know what to feel. She had not relished the prospect of bringing up a child who had lost their mother, she felt ill equipped to deal with it despite or perhaps because of her own experience. It was just too close to home. But she had grown to love Millie and she couldn't help a feeling of disappointment too._

_Dylan looked like he was struggling. He was silent for a moment before walking to the window avoiding Jess's eyes. "Is this because of our conversation last time I saw you?"_

_Sam watched Jess, who looked upset but determined. Sam didn't understand what was going on at all but clearly Dylan felt he had to keep something from her._

"_Listen, why don't I take Millie to see the rest of the house while you talk?" She said, not liking the excluded feeling. _

_Jess shot her a grateful look. "Thanks Sam."_

"_Since you clearly don't want to tell me what this is about." Sam muttered at Dylan as she left._

* * *

"_So now you think I'm some raging alcoholic Millie has to be protected from? I'm not fit to look after her now, is that it?" Dylan said feeling attacked from all sides. He didn't want Sam to find out about his lack of control of his drinking or the way it had all got too much for him in Plymouth and she now definitely knew something was going on._

_Jess rose and paced. "Why are you reacting like this? Carly lives with her, sees her everyday. Of course she should be the one to look after her! You thinking it's something more is nothing more than a symptom of your own paranoia, because you know you have a problem!"_

"_I don't have a problem!" He shouted, before moderating his tone. "So there's no link then? If you had been able to leave Millie with me that one time we would still be having this conversation?"_

_Jess looked away. "It's not just that once though is it? You think I can't tell when you've been drinking? When I've called you and you've been rambling or slurring your words? Sam doesn't know does she?"_

"_Don't you dare say anything to Sam! I'm fine!" _

"_Maybe. But Millie deserves a better childhood than I had." She snapped._

_Dylan drew back like she had struck him. "I would never hurt her!"_

"_I'm sure your mother would have said the same about Camilla!" Jess exploded._

_Dylan felt numb. He never wanted to be like his mother. He had always expected to be a better parent than she had been. Jess, the only member of his family he trusted, thought he was just as bad._

"_I think perhaps you shouldn't bring Millie here again." He said softly, all anger gone, now just feeling thoroughly defeated._

_Jess looked upset, eyes watery. "That's not what I meant."_

"_Jess. Just take her and don't come back." Jess shook her head, but picked up her bag and left the room presumably in search of Sam and her daughter._

_Dylan went back to staring out the window. He made a decision, then and there that it would be a bad idea for him and Sam to have children. He obviously was not able to handle the level of commitment or responsibility that came with a child. Truthfully, even though he had felt better since he had left Plymouth, he was still finding getting through the day without a drink a struggle. He dreaded Sam going away again because he knew once she was gone and he was back to months without seeing her he wasn't going to be able to cope. _

_He heard the door open. He didn't turn around, recognising Sam's footsteps._

"_What the hell is going on Dylan? I don't understand." She sounded upset and he wondered just how much she had allowed herself to think they would be responsible for Millie. He felt guiltier still at the thought. "Jess wouldn't even stay for lunch." She came to stand next to him and put her hand on his arm._

_He brushed her off, moving towards the kitchen. "I think we should have some wine with lunch, don't you?"_

"_Was it because of me? Because I'm away so much? Is that why you moved here? Somewhere more family friendly to get her to change her mind?" She persisted following him._

"_No. Carly's in the army too isn't she?" He said, hoping to deflect her as he walked into the kitchen and went into the drawer for a corkscrew._

"_She's a cook Dylan. Not exactly high risk and she's not moved around as much as me when she's in Britain." _

_Dylan didn't want to think of the risk to Sam at this particular moment, not on top of everything else. "God, Sam, just leave it! There's nothing you can do about it!" He poured a glass and knocked it back and Sam stood there looking at him for a moment before walking off. He had no intention of following her._

* * *

_Sam went upstairs to their bedroom. She sat on the bed, from where she had a perfect view across the green fields behind the house. Dylan was trying to protect her. Jess had decided Millie deserved better than a woman who risked her life for a living and was absent half the time for her foster mum. She was only doing her best for her daughter. Even though Carly and Jess had only been together for under a year, she still thought Carly was a better idea than Dylan and Sam. Dylan was wonderful with Millie, he was a natural with her._

_Sam stared unseeing at the beautiful scenery. It had to be her. She was the weak link. She had caused Jess to rethink and in doing so Dylan had got into an awful argument with Jess. They had been able to hear the shouting from upstairs, though Sam couldn't make out the words. _

_She wondered why Dylan stayed with her at all. She was away all the time and out of contact a lot and now she had cost him contact with his niece who he adored and her mother who were the only members of his family he actually cared about. Now when she went away he would be all alone. Well, all alone except for Dervla. Sam wrinkled her nose. And Gemma. _

* * *

Holby, 2012_  
_

Sam sidled up to him at the reception desk. She looked like she was barely containing her laughter. He waited for her to share but she pretended to be engrossed in her notes.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes. I have just been reminded of why I became a doctor."

Dylan regarded her warily.

She sidled closer to him. "Beaded necklace mysteriously lodged in anus." She muttered discretely.

Dylan rolled his eyes. There were some odd people out there. Sex should not result in a casualty visit. Well, not good sex anyway.

"Would you like to offer your professional opinion Dr Keogh?" She said, her eyes lit up with mirth.

"I'm sure you have it covered Dr Nicholls." He said, unable to keep the grin off his own face.

"I appreciate your confidence in me." She said, appearing to be trying not to breathe out.

"Shouldn't you go back to him?" Dylan said, enjoying her discomfort.

Sam held up a finger and let out a giggle she covered swiftly with a cough, a wide smile breaking out on her face.

"You're completely right." She took a deep breath to control herself. She snorted in an unladylike fashion. "Just need a minute." She managed to get out.

The nurse he had thought was Finnegan, who Dylan had learned was actually called Fletch, came to stand next to her silently. Dylan knew exactly what was coming next, having been in this exact situation working in A&E with Jack as a house officer. Sam caught Fletch's eye and they dissolved into silent laughter, trying in vain to control themselves as the patient was only feet away behind a paper curtain. Ah inappropriate laughter. The best kind, Dylan though as he left them to it, Fletch actually having to hold Sam up she was laughing so hard. He grinned to himself as he read his patients test results.

* * *

A week or so later Sam changed into her workout clothes. She was disguising her bump at work as she and Dylan still hadn't made an official announcement. They had decided to leave it a bit longer than the usual twelve weeks just in case and now she was sixteen weeks it was just about picking the right time. Sam had some days where she was bursting to tell the next person who talked to her, but she also sometimes felt that to tell everyone else was letting go of something. There was also a tiny part of her that worried that was when everything would go wrong, that she had been lulled into a false sense of security and it would all end suddenly. She quite liked the way it was her and Dylan's little secret. Zoe knew of course, but she had not mentioned it once since they had informed her and Sam mostly forgot the other woman was in the loop.

She had been wearing quite loose shirts, and scrubs hid a multitude of sins, but her workout clothes were quite unforgiving and she stopped to study herself in the mirror. There was definitely something there now, a neat little bump which was evidence of her baby's existence. She drove to the national trust trail that was fast becoming her and Dervla's favourite and warmed up, letting Dervy sniff the parking area thoroughly before she got started. She put on the heart rate monitor on her wrist carefully. She loved running but she had not been running regularly when she became pregnant and she needed to be careful not to overdo it, in terms of both her recovery and her pregnancy. The illness she had felt when she had pushed herself just after her surgery was etched into her brain and she wanted to do nothing to bring that feeling back again.

She started off with a brisk walk and was just about to start running when Dervla suddenly stopped dead, her ears pricked up. Sam stopped and listened but she heard nothing. Even if there was something there she probably wouldn't be able to hear it. She examined the landscape around her carefully but saw nothing and resumed her previous course. Her thoughts for a moment drifted to Adeeb. He was still at large out there somewhere. Hopefully he was far away. She gave herself a mental shake and kept going, trying to leave it all behind.

She started running, letting her music urge her along, grinning involuntarily as she came to an amusing bit in the lyrics. "Let's go looting, no, not Luton…" She was so caught up that she almost didn't notice Dervla veer off their usually course suddenly changing direction to run along a smaller track that she knew led to a group of farm buildings.

She pulled her headphones out sharply. "Dervla, come!" She waited, but the dog didn't stop.

"Dervla!" She yelled, this time injecting a lot more sternness into her tone. That dog had a mind of her own. Sam and Dervla got along well enough, but it was only Dylan that she really listened to.

"Damn it Dervy." She resigned herself to following Dervla and physically bringing her back. She had probably seen some sort of wildlife that just couldn't be resisted.

She changed direction and ran down the track, climbing over the gate just as easily as Dervla slipped underneath it. She was near the buildings now and she had lost sight of the stupid dog. Dervla was definitely not getting a treat when they got back. Sam could now hear the roar of a tractor or some kind of machinery. She felt a stab of fear. Dervla wouldn't do something stupid like run in front of it, would she? The closer Sam got, the more worried she became. The sound she was hearing sounded off somehow, like it was straining in someway. Sam could hear barking now, but it wasn't Dervla.

Sam rounded the corner and took in the scene rapidly. Dervla was sitting docilely next to a sheepdog who was frantically barking at a large digger, which looked like it was repeatedly trying to bash its way through a solid wall of a large building. The digger was making a straining noise. As she got closer she could see a man slumped over in the driver's seat. She looked at the machine. She needed to get it to stop, but cracks were appearing in the wall. It could go at any moment. She couldn't just stand here and watch. She jumped up onto the vehicle and reached over the man and turned off the ignition. There was suddenly dead silence, even the dog stopped barking. The man moaned, and Sam decided the first thing they needed to do was get out of the cab, the wall looked precarious even now the vehicle had ceased trying to demolish it.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" the man was pale and sweating and appeared to be struggling to breathe, but Sam was more worried about the wall coming down on top of them both.

"Help." The man managed to gasp out; at least that's what it sounded like.

"We have to get out of here." Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the cab and down to the ground; his momentum carrying him meant she could do little but control his fall and narrowly escaped being crushed by his weight. The cracks in the wall increased and she grabbed his arms and pulled, trying to get him away from immediate danger, for the first time allowing fear to influence her actions. They had to get out of here. She breathed a sigh of relief as they retreated to what she considered was a safe distance and propped the man up against another, undamaged, wall. She checked him over and confirmed her immediate suspicion that he was mostly likely suffering a myocardial infarction. She called 999 and got them to send an ambulance and sat back to wait, wondering if she should go up to the road and meet them. Dervla had now come to lie at her side, looking for all the world like she was going to fall asleep then and there.

The man came around a little and was a little calmer now she had told him she was a doctor and there was an ambulance on the way.

"Thought I was going to die." He gasped out.

"Not today." Sam said bracingly. "Though you're probably going to need a new wall." She turned her head back to look at it and it chose that moment to buckle. The movement caused the sheet metal roof to collapse to, crushing the cab of the tractor. Sam felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had done it again. She had put herself in danger without thinking about it. How many lives did she have left before her luck ran out? Dylan was right. She needed to change the way she thought about things.

She could hear the sirens in the distance. "Time to meet some friends of mine." She said to the farmer.

"Fancy meeting you here." Jeff said to Sam as he came over to assess the man. Dixie was unloading the stretcher and hadn't noticed her yet. "Why is it when we are advised there is a doctor already in attendance it always seems to be you?"

"I'm talented." She replied, before reeling off his vitals and taking the oxygen mask off Jeff and putting it on the farmer.

"You attract trouble more like. Your mister is going to pop a blood vessel if he sees that lot." Jeff looked over his shoulder at the collapsed building. "I assume that's where you rescued him from?"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that." Sam said sweetly.

Jeff grinned at her. "My silence is cheap. Dixie's however…."

"Hiya love! You didn't get caught in that lot did you?" Dixie said helping Jeff lift the farmer onto the stretcher.

"No. I just switched off the engine and got Mr Arthur out of the cab. That happened after." Sam said quickly, though looking back at the pile of rubble perhaps she deserved a bit of a telling off about this one. She picked up the left over bits of kit as they took the patient towards the ambulance.

"It's alright for me to bring Dervla, isn't it?" She said, suddenly remembering she wasn't alone.

"You want to bring a dog in my nice clean ambulance?" Jeff said sounding suitably appalled, though Dixie smirked to herself.

Sam walked behind them. "Your choice, do you want me to come with you or not? If I come so does the dog."

"Go on then. Nice baby bump by the way." Jeff said with a wink.

Sam stopped dead; she had completely forgotten in all the excitement that she was dressed in a way that made her pregnancy obvious. She started walking again, unable to stop herself letting out a grin; it was typical of Jeff not to miss a trick.

* * *

Arriving at the E.D. Sam caught Dixie's arm. "Can I borrow your jacket? It's just we haven't really decided on how to tell everyone yet and Dylan is going to be annoyed at me as it is…"

Dixie smiled at her and passed the jacket over. "Your secret is safe with us. Congratulations love. You deserve a bit of happiness after the year you've had."

Sam forced a smile trying to ignore the pang of guilt as she remembered compared to her army colleagues she hadn't had such a bad year at all.

Sam let Jeff and Dixie take the lead in handing over the patient, holding onto Dervla's lead outside resus. She watched Dylan lead the primary survey in his usual unruffled manner. She could see the moment the paramedics told him she was here as he looked instinctively towards the doors. She met his eyes and gave a little wave, not quite sure how she felt now the drama was over. No, that wasn't quite true. She felt guilty, and not just because of what Dixie had said. She had thought Dylan was making an unnecessary fuss, but even now, when she was starting to recognise the little movement's her baby was making inside her, she still failed to put his needs above those of a complete stranger. She walked away from the doors, pulling the bulky jacket closer around her and heading for the garden with Dervla. She would have to wait for Dylan to be done as she would have to steal some money off him for a taxi since she had left her car at the scene.

Sam let her mind wander and remembered she still had not been to see Ryan Jones. She wanted to see him, she really should see how he was and yet every time she had the opportunity she found something more important, or time sensitive that she definitely needed to do first. Maybe she was ashamed, that his life had been so irrevocably changed and she had just carried on, to the extent she was now expecting a baby. His life had been changed and she had carried on like nothing had happened. Sam was so lost in thought she jumped at a hand on her shoulder.

"Sam. You really don't need to go looking for customers you know. Unlike the paramedics I find it's easier to let them just come to us." He said lightly.

"I know you don't like to be bored." She forced a smile and Dylan sat down next to her, looking cold in just his shirt sleeves. Sam shrugged off the jacket and snuggled in close to Dylan so the jacket provided some warmth to both off them.

"I don't know how to do this." She said disconsolately desperately wanting some reassurance, but realising she needed to get through the inevitable argument first.

"What do you mean?" Dylan replied, sounding concerned.

"I …" Sam tried to keep her emotions under control. "I took a risk I shouldn't have taken. I know you're going to be angry and you should be. You were right."

"Jeff and Dixie didn't say anything about that."

"I asked them not too. But it's only fair you know. I put him in danger." Sam didn't feel like she could deal with Dylan angry with her too, but knew she deserved it.

Dylan was silent for a long moment. "I don't have a bloody clue what I'm doing either you know."

Sam turned her head to face him, confused. "You seem like you do."

"Good." He said emphatically, but then softened his tone. "All I know is the thought of you taking risks or her in danger scares the living daylights out of me. That's why I'm always trying to stop you doing things. I don't… I'm just as clueless as you." He sounded so honestly bemused that Sam smiled involuntarily.

"I love you." She said marvelling at the way he could make her feel better seemingly by accident. He tightened his arms around her in response. "It was Dervla's fault you know. She's like a scruffy version of Lassie. She led me to the farmer."

Dylan sighed theatrically. "I suppose it makes sense, that all the women in my life have a nose for trouble…"

"Why do you think it's a girl?"

"What?"

"You said her. I said him because we don't know yet and you said her."

"I don't know. I have a fifty percent chance of being correct don't I?"

"I think he's a boy." Sam said uncertain why she thought this.

"Well one of us is wrong. We'll find out next week I suppose."

"It'll seem more real then. I was really worried you know, that you didn't want to be a father at all and you were just going along with me because it was the easiest thing to do." She admitted, encouraged by his earlier admission.

Dylan was silent. "I didn't want to be a father. I'm not exactly daddy material. My problem with alcohol, it's never going to go away. That's not something I would have wanted to burden a child with."

Sam felt she was finally getting some honesty from him, even as upset as his words were making her.

"That's not the same as not wanting a child." She insisted.

He looked at her, appalled then. "Of course it isn't. I would always have wanted our child. I do love our baby. I just think she could do better than me for a father."

Sam felt awful that he thought that, especially when she was so sure. "No. He couldn't."

Dylan met her eyes. "I hope you're right."

She regarded him coolly. "Of course I'm right. I'm never wrong, you know that."

Dylan shook his head at that outrageous statement and pulled her closer under Dixie's jacket.


	21. Chapter 21

The Damage We Do – Chapter 21

The song in the last flashback is Owl City – Fireflies. Only missed by update target by two days, yay!

Uni is completely kicking my arse; sorry this story is taking so long! Not only do I have lots of work and things to learn but I feel like I'm on a whistle stop tour of the most difficult to find medical facilities of South Wales on placement each week. Never mind, only a month till Christmas!

Thank you kle107, T4mmy88, hearts break souls connect and the amazing Ficmouse for the reviews! They keep me going! Please keep reviewing!

* * *

_Carybrooke, 2010_

_Dylan walked in through the door but the house was quiet. Dervla met him gently hovering around his legs as he walked through the darkened hall to the brightly lit kitchen at the end of the house. That was strange; Sam usually liked some music on while she cooked. He put the bottle of wine down on the table and looked around the kitchen. The oven was still warm but turned off. Where had Sam gone? He had only been gone a few minutes. He patted his pocket for his phone before he located it flashing red on the kitchen counter. She had tried to call him. There was a note under the phone. 'Janey Hedges in labour. Gone to help' written in Sam's characteristic scrawl._

_Dylan raised his eyebrows. Poor Sam. He grabbed his car keys and the phone and left, remembering to lock the door on the way out as Sam had not and registering her car still in the car park as he left. She had not left on her own, someone had obviously appeared at the door and she had felt no choice but to go with them. Sam was very competent, had more practical experience than most doctors of her level of training, but she was still an F2 and had little if any experience in obstetrics. She was probably both cursing him and trying to remember her textbook word for word at this moment in time._

_He drove the short way to the house, stopping dead outside the terraced house and noting another car parked hurriedly at a rather dodgy angle outside. Poor Sam if she had to suffer that driving, she must have been holding on for dear life. He turned the handle and walked straight in, just as he heard the distinctive cry of an infant. Oops! Obviously he was too late; all the hard work had already been done._

"_Dylan!" Sam said as he appeared in the doorway of the living room. She sounded so relieved to see him, but excited at the same time. _

"_Dr Keogh! It's a little boy!" Miss Hedges's partner said euphorically. Dylan recalled they had been hoping for a son as they already had a little girl of about three._

"_Congratulations." He crouched down next to Sam. "Have you done the obs?" She turned to him, with shining eyes and nodded. "He's fine. It all went so fast!" She was shaking slightly and Dylan reflected this was very different to what she was normally used to, being completely alone instead of part of a massive well practiced team. It was probably the adrenaline rush wearing off. He took over from Sam and she let him easily, breathing a sigh of relief and sitting down shakily on the sofa._

"_Dr Keogh?" Janey said and Dylan looked up, only to find her looking at Sam. "What's your first name?"_

"_Samantha." Sam said after blinking at her for a moment looking bemused, she was not used to being referred to as Keogh._

"_Jack, that's one of the names we liked. It's a sign!" The woman looked towards her partner and Jack smiled at her, carefully lifting his new son out of her arms. _

"_Hello Sam Taylor." Jack said quietly to the baby. The phone rang and he gave the baby to Sam while he answered it._

_Sam held the baby carefully but their eyes met across the room. Dylan could see the amazement on her face, screaming 'did I just really do that?' He smiled at her expression and went back to monitoring Janey. He couldn't help looking back up at Sam and the baby. She seemed enchanted by him, her hand playing with his little fists which were flailing as he squirmed. She seemed so young then and Dylan suddenly felt old, like he didn't deserve her at all. _

_He remembered the conversation they had had years ago when she had introduced him to her family. She had been in no doubt then, she wanted a family and watching her with little Sam he could see she still did, it was written all over her face. He had accepted it then as a thing in the far future but now watching her with the baby was making him uncomfortable. The decision he had made the other day not to have children played on his mind. He hadn't considered Sam's feelings at all. Now he thought he could extrapolate what they were._

_They left the couple with the ambulance crew who had finally turned up so that the mother and baby could be checked over properly at the local district general since the birth had been so quick. Sam followed him into the car and let out a deep breath. _

"_That was terrifying. I was praying for you to find my note quickly."_

"_You seemed to do okay." Dylan said stiffly._

"_I didn't have to do the hard bit. It was amazing. I delivered a baby in med school, but I was in a hospital and there were lots of people and it was really sterile and this was just so different. It felt different." Her enthusiasm was making him feel worse._

"_Before you had lots of people to fall back on. Here there was just you." He managed to say._

"_I knew you were coming." Sam said and Dylan felt undone by her faith in him. If she knew what he was really thinking she wouldn't be looking at him like that._

* * *

Holby, 2012

"Hello, I'm Sam, one of the doctors here. How did this happen?"

The elderly woman held out her hand for her to take and Sam examined it carefully. It looked like a fracture, she would need an x-ray to check the extent of the injury but Sam didn't think it would require surgical fixation. Her husband was hovering worriedly.

"Oh I think I fell." The woman seemed vague but smiled at Sam warmly.

"You think?" Sam glanced down at the file in her hands. "Ivy, do you remember what happened?"

"Yes of course I do." The woman said sharply.

"Ok. Did you hit it on something?" Sam said, knowing the mechanism of injury was most likely a fall.

"Yes." The woman said but she seemed unsure and she looked to her husband anxiously.

"Sweetheart you're a bit confused. She has hit it before but she fell today." The husband said calmly.

"Did you hit your head at all when you fell?" Sam said, pulling out her penlight to do a neuro exam.

"No. It's very noisy here isn't it?" Ivy was looking with interest into the busy area outside her cubicle.

"This is quiet for us. Can you follow my finger?" Sam walked her through the examination which seemed to be fine except for her continuing lack of focus.

"Okay, great, I'd just like to borrow your husband for a moment if that's okay?"

Ivy nodded and lay back on the trolley. Her husband followed Sam away from the cubicle.

"Ivy seems a little confused, is that normal for her?"

"She's not confused. She's just in pain. It was a shock, it's only natural she's a little distressed." His reaction was vehement, though he didn't raise his voice.

"So she's never been diagnosed with any type of memory problem?"

"No of course not. She's fine." He seemed to close off from Sam and she sighed internally.

"When was the last time she was seen by her GP?"

"Year's ago. I told you doctor, she's fine, she doesn't even suffer from high blood pressure."

"That's good news. I would still like to do a couple of simple tests just to check her memory just in case."

"Look, I'm sure you're just doing your job, but I know my wife doctor. You are awfully young. Perhaps if we talked to one of your superiors?"

"If you want. Can I arrange the x-ray first?" The man nodded and returned to his wife. Sam went to ask one of the nurses to ring x-ray for her, not relishing having to be the person to break this man out of his clear denial over his wife's condition.

Sam stood at the desk, looking at the x-ray of Ivy Jacobs's wrist. There was a clear fracture but as she thought, it would just require reduction and immobilisation.

"Everything alright?" Dylan said as he arrived to check something on the computer.

"I got 'you are awfully young'" She said frustrated. "He might as well have said, young girl like you, don't know what you're talking about, I want to speak to a man over fifty since I don't like what you're saying."

"Making friends?" Dylan teased her. She turned to him. "Since you find it so amusing, you can come and talk to me with him. After all, you are my superior." She said the last part so sweetly he flashed her a startled look.

"Just as long as you remember **I** didn't declare myself your superior, because I want to live."

Sam gave him a smug look as she passed him the tablet with the x-rays and the patient file. "She's confused, no head injury, neuro exam checks out and she apparently hasn't been to the GP in years. Husband seems protective and unwilling to entertain the prospect of memory problems. He doesn't want me to do any checks."

"Let's go have a chat then." Sam took the tablet back and led him to the cubicle.

"Ivy. This is Dr Keogh."

"Is my arm broken doctor?" Ivy said with interest.

"Yes, but the good news is you won't require surgery. We're going to reduce the fracture manually and immobilise it with a plaster cast so the bones have time to heal." Sam said. "I would still like to run you through a couple of questions to test your memory if that's okay."

"I told you I don't think that's necessary." The husband said.

"Dr Nicholls is concerned that your wife doesn't remember the accident. It could be an indication of something more sinister." Dylan said.

"There's nothing sinister going on. Ivy's always been a bit dizzy, haven't you love? It's never stopped her."

"I still keep him in line." Ivy said smiling at Sam.

"It's just a couple of questions. We give you a few words, ask you to remember them…."

"I said no!" Ivy's husband said grabbing Sam's arm suddenly.

"Fine." Dylan said instantly and the man released Sam's arm at once, looking embarrassed. Sam stepped away quickly and she could feel Dylan's hand on her shoulder pulling her away from the man gently. Her heart was pounding in her chest, that had come out of nowhere.

"We're getting her arm seen to and then we're going." Mr Jacobs took his wife's hand and sat down on the chair next to her bed, no longer paying them any attention.

Dylan pulled her out of the cubicle. "Are you alright?" He led her over to the desk where there was a tall computer stool and perched her on it.

"I'm fine. He just put his hand on my arm. It wasn't even a tight grip."

"It gave you a shock though." Dylan said knowingly and Sam realised he was checking her pulse. She dislodged his grip so that he was holding her hand instead of checking her pulse.

"I'm fine. Why did you just give in? He needs to face up to reality!"

"Sam, he won't accept the truth. He's not there yet. He's watching the woman he loves disappear in front of his eyes. It's awful, but we can't force her to have the test. I didn't just give in, but he's in a distressing situation and we were making it worse."

Sam's annoyance faded as she took in Dylan's expression and realised why he was looking at her like _that_, like she was something fragile and precious. "What did they tell you about my prognosis when I was injured?"

"They didn't have to tell me anything Sam." He swallowed painfully and regarded her seriously before surprising her by smoothing back a strand of hair from her forehead.

She grasped tighter to his hand moved by his uncharacteristically affectionate behaviour at work. "We can't just let it go."

"Yes we can. He doesn't want our help. We let him know we are here when he does and we patch her up." He let go of her hand. "And no member of staff is to be alone with them. Safe distance from the husband at all times. I'll handle the reduction and casting of her arm."

"She's my patient!" Sam said annoyed.

"Her husband obviously has a problem with you. I'm taking you off this case; if you disagree we can call up Zoe and see what she would think of it."

"It's her day off! And she'd just side with you." Sam said sulkily.

"Good, glad that's settled." He walked off. Sam stared speculatively back at the cubicle where her patient sat. She considered it for a moment before she shifted and the ache in her back flared suddenly. She shook her head, and although it took an enormous amount of effort, walked the other way.

* * *

Later that night Sam shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. "We should really make an announcement."

"Why should we? It's none of anyone else's business." Dylan said in his typical indifferent fashion. He caught her expression and studied her closely. "What's wrong?"

Sam stilled. "It's nothing." She winced and Dylan gave her an incredulous look. "Alright, it's self inflicted. My backs been aching since I dragged that man out of his tractor the other day. It's nothing."

"Yet here you are wincing a few days later. Why didn't you say anything?" Dylan said and took Sam's hand so she was sitting on the edge of the sofa with her feet flat on the floor.

"It shouldn't have mattered. I've done things like that before. Well, not exactly like that, but not so far away. As far as the army goes that was a calm day."

"Well your back already has to deal with the changes of pregnancy, without you deciding to go hauling grown men around. Any nerve pain?"

"No Dylan, I just said, it's just an ache."

"I should do a full examination; you could have irritated an existing injury from the explosion."

"I don't think so." Sam said, rubbing her back absently and hoping Dylan didn't continue to make a fuss. Dylan sat back down beside her and pulled her hand away. His larger hand soon replaced hers, massaging the tight part gently. Sam leant her head back, enjoying the motion of his hand on her back, feeling some of the ache leave. She couldn't help the satisfied moan that escaped her. She tilted her head to look at Dylan and felt a wave of affection for him sweep through her.

"If I were a cat I would be purring right now." She murmured.

"Please go ahead, I wouldn't object to hearing that." He teased.

She turned to face him and he stopped his massage. "You make me so happy." She blurted out without thinking. The second she said it she regretted it. He would hardly be able to say the same after all, what with her drama and moods and all the misery she had brought to their marriage.

He stared at her, stunned into speechlessness for a moment. She looked away from him, down at her lap, where her hands rested. His larger hands covered hers and she looked up at his face. A massive smile was on his face and he pulled her into a hug. She began to relax until she realised he wasn't smiling anymore. He was shaking and she could feel him taking big deep breaths to control himself.

"Dylan?" She said, not wanting to pull away from him but worried all the same.

"When the notification officer came, I thought you were dead." She realised she had hit a nerve somehow and she had unintentionally broken through his iron-clad collection to his real feelings about her injury.

"I'm not dead." She reassured him, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.

"No. You're here and you're real." He still sounded like he was reassuring himself, like he was still a bit unsure.

"I'm so sorry Dylan. You've been so strong for me. I wouldn't have made it without you…I forgot how hard it's been for you too."

He pulled away and hid his face in his hands. "I'm fine, really. I don't know what's come over me. It was just everything was getting better and then…." Dylan trailed off before turning back to Sam. "I'd have never been happy again."

Sam felt her heart was breaking for him."I love you and I'm not going anywhere." She said simply, wiping the tears off his face even as they fell unchallenged down her own.

"Good." He pulled her in for another hug and this time Sam relaxed into it, allowing the feeling of rightness to wash over her.

Dylan finally pulled away, sitting facing away from her on the sofa. "Well. It's funny the kind of things that can make a man snap like a biscuit." Dylan said uncomfortably.

"Oh mistake Keogh! Did you mention a biscuit?" Sam said knowing Dylan needed a bit of a distraction. "Mine's a Bourbon." She laid out full length on the sofa expectantly. Dylan huffed and walked off to the kitchen.

* * *

"How did you know?" Sam said seriously as they left outpatients wing of the hospital and entered the main building. "Did you see something on the first couple of scans?"

"I would have told you if that was the case."

"So how do you explain it?"

"I don't know. I just had a feeling." He said sheepishly.

"A feeling?" Sam stopped dead. "Who are you and what have you done with my husband?"

"Ha Ha. So I was right, do I win anything? Naming rights?"

Sam laughed. "Oh no. Not after what you named your first car."

"Persephone is a lovely name."

She looked at him with amusement. "Yes for a Greek goddess, not for a Ford Fiesta!"

"I think it suited her." Dylan said deadpan.

"No, No, No." Sam muttered.

* * *

"Well?" Dixie asked Sam excitedly. Jeff sidled up by the side of her, clearly just as interested but being a bit manlier about it.

Sam couldn't resist, looking around to see if anyone else was about before relenting. "Girl." She said.

"Oh, congratulations love!" Dixie said, hugging Sam excitedly.

"Dylan's going to love that." Jeff remarked with a grin.

"What do you mean?" Sam said, puzzled

"Being outnumbered by the fairer sex." Jeff said with a grin. "You, the baby, even the dog. He's going to be living in a footie free household!"

"He'll survive. Anyway, I'm more into football than he is."

"So does this mean you are finally going to tell everyone?" Dixie said teasingly.

"Tell everyone what?" Louise interjected and Dixie jumped.

"Louise, I didn't see you there."

"Of course not, you were too busy gossiping." She said and Dixie's smile became rather strained.

"Time we were going, I think." Jeff said, grabbing Dixie's arm and pulling her away from the pompous little receptionist who still had the ability to rub his wife the wrong way in less than a sentence.

"Lisa Turners lab results." Louise handed the results to Sam. "Something to tell everyone?"

"I don't think so, excuse me." Sam said distractedly. Dixie was right, it was time to tell everyone and she should probably start with her father.

She went outside and stood staring at her phone for a moment before hitting call. He would probably be busy anyway. She was surprised when he answered straightaway. "Sam! Is everything alright?" He asked anxiously and Sam realised he was probably worried she was calling because of the Adeeb situation.

"Everything's fine. How are Maria and the girls?"

"Oh you know, well. Clemency has taken up kickboxing. Maria is not happy, she thinks it's unladylike."

Sam smiled, imagining her step mothers face at that development. "That's great; I bet she'll really enjoy it. Listen Dad, I have some news for you."

"What?"

"Dylan and I are going to have a baby."

"A baby? When?" He sounded completely shocked and Sam couldn't resist a grin as very little shocked her father.

"I'm seventeen weeks. My due date is April the 10th."

"So I'm going to be a grandfather? Thanks Sammy, I already feel old enough as it is!" He paused for a moment. "Sam, I'm a bit worried that you're telling me this now."

"What do you mean?"

"Sorry I have to be a bit cryptic but that problem we discussed? The money's in Euro's now."

"How long ago was this?" Sam said, icy cold fear dampening the happiness the scan had brought.

"A week or so."

"Any chance the problem will spread to pounds?" She said, too worried to be self-conscious at the clumsy phrasing she was using.

"Yes. There is that possibility. If that happens I'll send in the accountants. The company are trying to close the account as we speak."

"Right." Sam said her head reeling.

"I'm doing my best to sort this out Sam. Tell Dylan congratulations from me."

"Okay." She said dully.

"Bye Sammy."

Sam didn't even bother to say goodbye. She stood there looking at the phone. Adeeb was in Europe. She had thought it was extremely unlikely that he would try and come to Britain. It looked like she had been wrong. And he was coming now, when she would find it more and more difficult to defend herself. She had a sudden flash of fury and threw her phone at the ground with force where it shattered into little pieces. Why did everything have to be so hard?

Lloyd and Zoe, who had been waiting for an ambulance to arrive at the entrance to the E.D., were looking her way in concern. Sam coolly bent down and extracted her sim card from the mess of dead electronic device and walked back into the E.D. ignoring Zoe as she asked her if she was alright. She wasn't, far from it. She was terrified and angry and much as she liked Zoe, Zoe was her boss and Sam knew if she talked to her while she was feeling like this, things wouldn't end well.

* * *

Zoe watched her go feeling like she was seeing what Dylan saw for the first time. She had realised on Sam's first day back that the Sam they had now was a different person from the Sam that had gone off to Afghanistan those short months ago, but she had not seen the complete loss of control from the ex army medic before. Even when she had restrained Keith Parr, Sam had always given the impression that she was very much in control, even if she seemed to have been used to different standards of behaviour in the army.

As far as Zoe knew Sam had been having a fairly normal phone conversation, there had been no raised voices anyway and then Sam had hung up and bam. Lloyd was looking at her like she should do something, but she could already hear the approaching ambulance, which had to be her first priority. She briefly wondered if she should suspend her after that little display. After all what if she lost her temper with a patient? It was Zoe's responsibility to protect both Sam and the patients. She decided she needed to talk to her first, gauge her state of mind. If the conversation didn't go well, she'd send her home.

"Sam, a word please." Zoe found Sam in cubicles just finishing up with a young man.

"If this is about earlier…" Sam said, clearly putting up her guard.

"Yes it is. My office please." Zoe ordered, stifling the part of herself that still thought of the office as Nick's, not hers.

"What's going on Sam? That was a bit of a dramatic statement earlier, in public, when you were dressed in a uniform that clearly marked you out as one of the medical staff. What on earth were you thinking?" Zoe asked.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Sam said stiffly.

"Can you guarantee that? Because I'm guessing you didn't mean to do it in the first place."

"No. But I'm fine."

"I don't believe you." Zoe said honestly. "I have a duty of care to both you and the patients under your care. If you can't control your temper I'll have to suspend you."

"You don't need to do that, I'm not a risk to the patients!" Sam took a deep breath and put her hand over her eyes. "I just got some bad news that's all. The phone paid the price."

"What bad news?"

"That's none of your business." Sam said and Zoe stiffened.

"That's where you're wrong. I told you before, you are my responsibility. I saw your face Sam, you looked afraid! Tell me I'm wrong!"

"I'm not afraid!" Sam shouted and Zoe knew she had touched a nerve.

Sam glared at her. "It's to do with… It's… bloody hell Zoe, I can't tell you." Sam stood suddenly at attention and Zoe was completely confused. "I can't tell you what the phone call was about. If that means you have to suspend me, you're going have to do it." She looked sick and Zoe didn't really understand why she didn't want to tell her whatever it was.

"Sam, anything you tell me won't go any further. Please, I just need to understand."

Sam shook her head.

"You aren't leaving me a choice. Go home. I'll have to think about whether I'm going to suspend you or end your contract."

Sam stood there for a moment like she was waiting for Zoe to take it back. She looked devastated but there was no hint of tears. She turned and left silently and Zoe watched her go, knowing this was going to cause major trouble with Dylan.

* * *

Dylan frowned in confusion, where was Sam going? They were supposed to finish at the same time today but there she was, dressed in her outside clothes, coat and bag and everything heading towards the exit.

"Sam!" He called and she turned around, looking like she was in two minds whether she wanted to talk to him or not. What had he done now? If this was about moving again….

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Zoe suspended me. I'm going home." She snapped at him and Dylan realised she wasn't angry with him specifically.

"Why would she do that?" He said quickly.

"Oh I don't know, perhaps because she finally believed all your crap about me having some kind of combat stress reaction. She thinks I've finally looped the loop! I can't deal with this Dylan, not on top of everything else!"

Dylan regarded her with concern, that was the first time she had ever said anything like that. Sam was not normally one for defeatist statements.

A hundred questions ran through his head. "What else?" He blurted out and cursed his insensitivity almost immediately. Sam was going to rip him to shreds for that little gem.

Instead Sam's face crumpled and she stared at the floor. That was much worse than her yelling at him and he opened his mouth to apologise but she got there first.

"I called my dad. I told him about the baby and he told me…." She trailed off and he followed her gaze to see the mouthy receptionist behind him averting her eyes.

"This can wait." Louise said and scuttled off, no doubt to spread the gossip she had just learned about the hospital. Dylan refocused on Sam.

"What did he tell you?" He said and he felt the cold dread return as he stared at Sam's face. She looked guilty now.

"He said Adeeb is coming here. He made it to Europe and he's coming here."

Dylan felt himself take in a breath sharply. He reached out for Sam and took her arm, feeling like time had slowed around them until all he could see was her. He didn't know whether she was steadying him or he was steadying her.

"Dylan." He heard a voice calling him from far away but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Sam.

"It'll be alright." He felt himself say.

Sam shook her head. "I'm sorry." She broke the connection and took off away from him.

"Dylan!" Zoe came to stand beside him. "What's going on?" He struggled to get his emotions under control, unable to respond to her.

"What's the matter?" She said, pulling him to face her and looking alarmed at his expression.

"Is it the baby?" She asked and Dylan shook his head before walking towards the exit. Zoe followed him as he took deep breaths in the freezing cold 'garden'.

"The man who is after Sam is getting closer." He said finally.

"She knows?" Zoe said, looking upset. "That's what she couldn't tell me?"

"It's army business technically. She's still bound by her orders." Zoe closed her eyes in realisation. "That's what she couldn't tell me. She told **you**!" She said with frustration.

"No." He said starkly. "Her father told me. He's a politician; he does what he wants like all the rest of them. And I needed to know, he's an idiot but he wants to protect her too."

Zoe seemed to come to a decision and Dylan felt her hand, warm upon his shoulder. "Tell Sam I expect to see her on time for her shift tomorrow."

Dylan sat there for a while longer, dazed.

* * *

When he got home that night Sam was sitting at the kitchen table but Dervla was damp so she had probably taken her for a walk. Dylan collapsed into a seat.

"This is a nightmare." He said.

"He's not going to win." Sam said defiantly and Dylan felt on much stronger ground. This was the Sam he was used to. "I'm not going to stop living my life. If he gets to Britain that's one thing. But I refuse to jump at small noises and be scared of my shadow."

"You need to carry that gun from now on." Dylan said, hardly believing he was saying it.

"This isn't Hawaii 50 grumpy." Her words were teasing but her eyes were studying the table top.

"Tough. When you run, to and from work, when you're here alone, it needs to be in easy reach."

Sam smiled sadly. "Civilians. They think having a gun solves everything. I know better."

"I just want you to be safe." Dylan got up and moved around to where Sam sat.

"I want to be safe too." Sam said painfully, jumping up into his arms, burying her face in his shirt. Dylan held her close, aware of the small bump between them for the first time. He stroked her back absently.

"I sorted things out with Zoe."

"Thanks"

"So we pretend everything is fine."

"Yes. After all, how is he even going to find me?"

"You don't remember your face splashed across the tabloids? A Google search would probably do it." Dylan said facing facts.

Sam smiled. She drew her laptop so that he could see it. She typed in her name. Nothing. She typed in his name. Nothing. Nothing relevant anyway.

"I don't understand." Dylan said unable to resist pressing the search button again.

"The newspaper articles, blog posts, facebook, my twitter account, it's all gone. My email account still works but it's in a comedy name so I think they've left it alone."

"Your father's doing?" Dylan said, feeling a bit better than he had a few minutes ago.

Sam nodded. "It must have been a nightmare though, getting the tabloids and the BBC to take down those articles. I had been wondering why we weren't getting stalked by reporters. If they knew they couldn't publish the story they wouldn't bother."

"But that would take all kinds of legal manoeuvring." He said. It hit him suddenly. "Gray. He must have got one of those injunction things." He felt guilty. He would have to call him to thank him.

"We can do this." Sam said suddenly.

Dylan considered her carefully. He nodded and she got up, digging out a pizza menu and bringing it back to table for them to peruse. He put his hand over her hand and she returned his grip solidly, neither one of them feeling particularly anxious to let go.

* * *

_Aldershot, 2010_

_Sam stared across the crowded bar, not seeing the person she was searching for. A pair of hands descended onto her shoulders and she jumped, before turning around and hugging the person the hands belonged to as she recognised them._

"_Carly! I went for my sidearm you know!"_

"_Lucky for me you're unarmed then."_

"_Where is everyone?" Sam said, thinking she must have missed them on the first pass._

"_They'll be along in a minute. I wanted to have a word with you first."_

_Sam frowned. Was Carly finally going to tell her what was going on between Dylan and Jess? She hoped so because Dylan wasn't budging and Sam hated it. She had never felt they had secrets before, even though it sometimes took them time to share things properly they had always got through it gradually. With this issue Dylan seemed quite happy never to tell her what had gone on and that pointed to a problem more serious than whatever was going on with Jess. If they couldn't communicate then their relationship which could get into serious trouble and that scared Sam more than she would ever admit. It was why she kept bugging Dylan about it, which was having the result of making him close off even more. _

"_What happened between Jess and Dylan?" She said after they had squeezed into a table in the corner with a couple of drinks._

_Carly winced and seemed to be choosing her words carefully as she considered Sam's question. "Jess is worried about Dylan."_

_Sam sat back, puzzled. "Worried about him? Why?"_

"_When you were away… I think he got a bit lonely…" Carly said slowly._

_Sam crossed her arms. "Has Jess been talking to his mother? Because she's a bitch."  
_

"_No, Jess doesn't have anything to do with the Keogh's." She seemed to be searching for the right thing to say again. "How much does Dylan usually drink?"_

"_Drink?" Sam said still confused. "He drinks a bit more than me but no more than any other medic or soldier I know. Bad groups to compare to, I know. He enjoys his red wine and whiskey. I myself am more partial to the vodka." She picked up her glass for emphasis and took a big sip._

"_Jess thinks he has a problem. You know about his mother, right? Jess said it can run in families, addictive behaviour."_

_Sam shook her head in disbelief, finally seeing where Carly was going with this. "You're saying Dylan's some kind of alcoholic? No, that's ridiculous! I've seen patients with alcohol problems, Jess doesn't know what she's talking about."_

"_Jess knows exactly what she's talking about, she knows addiction. And she's there with him when you're not."_

_Sam stood up, hurt and anger racing through her. "I can't believe you're saying this!"_

_Carly stood up too, but she wasn't angry and she put her hands out in a pacifying gesture. _

"_Look Sam, I'm not having a go. That's just what Jess thinks, she might be wrong, I'm sure you know him best. She's just worried about him. She cares about him; he's the only family she's got."_

_Sam sat down heavily. "Well she's wrong." She said decisively._

"_Okay. I'll leave it with you. Look, there are the others, let's just have a good time tonight eh? For Mark."_

_Sam nodded, thinking of the young officer she had first met during officer training._

"_For Mark." She repeated._

"_By the way my transfer finally came through."_

"_What?" Sam said, mind still on Dylan._

"_To the RAVC. I get my dog and start training next week."_

"_That's great." Sam said. Inwardly she was in pieces. She had definitely been wrong about why Jess and Dylan had disagreed. If they hadn't disagreed over her job, which they clearly hadn't since Carly had just taken on a more dangerous job and she was still going to adopt Millie, then why had they argued? Jess couldn't be right could she?_

_Sam got back to her hotel room around four in the morning. Ironically the hotel room had been cheaper than the cost of a taxi home. She had enjoyed herself, but her mind had returned, now she was starting to sober up, to what Carly had told her about Dylan. Sam felt sick, she went into the bathroom and sat on the floor, the room spinning around her. Coming home wasn't supposed to be like this. The thought of home had got her through the awful days, the thought of her husband and their dozy dog and their little flat which had become home to them. Now their little flat belonged to someone else and Dylan was a different person to the one she had left. Sam finally gave in and cried. She hadn't cried in Afghan, not once, although she had seen and heard some heart wrenching things. She had tried and failed to save a friend for god's sake and she hadn't broken once. But here, now, she felt so disconnected and confused, like she didn't know which way was up. She was going back in five days. How the hell could she go back like this? _

* * *

Holby, 2012

Dylan was working with Fletch in resus. The nurse had a very easy manner, which Dylan was starting to appreciate as it kept the patients out of his hair as he actually diagnosed them. The newly qualified nurse didn't seem as wary of Dylan as he had been though, which was an annoyance.

"Heard you're going to be a dad, Doc." Said Fletch, only just out of range of the patient as Dylan looked on the clinical portal for the patients previous hospital results and he was on the phone to radiology.

Dylan rolled his eyes. That had been quick. "Yes." He said grudgingly, hoping to stop any further discourse on the subject.

"I remember when my wife was pregnant with our first. Every new thing was amazing. Not the cravings though, they were just weird. Chips and ice cream if you can believe that."

"Sam hasn't had that." Dylan said

"Nah, Angela didn't have it with the second either. Course the second was a girl. What are you having?"

Dylan looked over at him. He may be a newly qualified nurse, but he wasn't a teenager. He had three children, or so he told everyone.

"A girl." Dylan gave in finally; it was probably all round the E.D. by now.

"Bad luck mate. She'll have you wrapped around her little finger before she's an hour old." Fletch gave him a grin and paid attention to the phone again as someone came on the other end.

Dylan felt himself actually considering asking Fletch's advice before he shook himself and returned to what he was doing. Three pregnancies, he nearly shuddered. He would be hard pressed to get to the end of this one without Sam killing him. Her mood swings were so bad at the moment he had no idea how to deal with her.

* * *

Sam threw up her hands in exasperation before walking off.

"What's up with you two?" Zoe came to stand next to him, picking out a celebrations chocolate from a tin a patient had left as a thank you.

"Sam has decided that we need to move. Apparently my views don't count." Dylan didn't care that he sounded petulant.

"She's trying to make you give up the boat? How dare she! After all, the baby doesn't need a bedroom does she? She can just sleep at the bottom of your bed until she's twenty one." Zoe said mischievously.

"Very funny. I know we need to move eventually, but does it all need to be done at once?" He bemoaned

"Better done now than with a six month old baby." Zoe advised, grabbing her ever present stack of paperwork and a galaxy caramel and making a break for it. Dylan strode off in the opposite direction, refusing to acknowledge perhaps she had a point.

* * *

Dylan felt on a very short fuse with this argument, probably because they had been having it for the majority of their married life. Sam was standing in the staffroom waiting for him in an irritated manner. He could see the drive home was going to be delightful. "Come on grumpy."

Dylan was feeling distinctly uncooperative. He didn't mind it when Sam called him grumpy, she usually said it affectionately, but her tone at the moment was not affectionate in the slightest. "Oh you actually want me to come home with you? I thought you wanted to be the one making all the decisions." He turned round and crossed his arms, going slow on purpose.

"Well at least I actually want to make some decisions, not just bury my head in the sand."

"I'm not burying my head in the sand. But why do we need to do everything at your pace?"

"Because your pace is reverse Dylan." Sam said in a particularly patronising tone.

They reached the car and Dylan stood in front of it for a moment. "I think I'll walk."

Sam sighed. "Fine."

* * *

Dylan looked at the bright lights on in the boat and sighed. He braced himself for the coming argument and walked in through the unlocked door and locked it behind him. He put the bag of takeaway down on the table.

Sam turned around and instantly looked annoyed. "Dylan, I've cooked! Why didn't you say you were getting takeaway?"

"I just fancied it. Of course I presume this something else you think I'm getting wrong?" He challenged her.

Sam shook her head but didn't say anything else as he sat down at the table and dug into his Chinese. Sam put the sauce on the stir fry she was making and stole one of his prawn crackers before he could blink.

"There's enough for you if you want some." He said grudgingly.

"I'm okay." She said, still clearly annoyed with him and looking at the Chinese like it was her mortal enemy. She stole another prawn cracker and sat down with her stir fry, having glared at him as she put his portion to one side.

"Just because we're back together, it doesn't mean we have to make every decision together. We don't always have to agree." Dylan finally said.

"No, go ahead. Why should I care?" Sam said stonily. Dylan couldn't help rolling his eyes.

They finished dinner which was entirely conducted in silence and cleared up also in silence. They sat down in the sofa at opposite ends, sitting properly, not touching at all. Dylan hated arguing but he wasn't about to give in either. He wasn't going to sit in silence for the rest of the night though. That was the problem with the boat. It was small. He could always go sit in the kitchen he supposed, but that assaulted his pride. They were both arguing, why did he have to be the one banished to the kitchen?

Sam took a deep breath and switched on the TV. He half expected her to put on something he hated to annoy him. Instead she went for university challenge, which he loved. She shuffled along the sofa until she was leaning against him and he instinctively shifted to put his arms around her. He was confused. "I thought we were arguing."

"We are. We can start again tomorrow, okay? I'm tired."

"Right." Dylan said, still confused.

Sam looked at her watch. "In fact, I like that idea, new rule, no arguing after eight o'clock. What do you think?"

"Fine by me." He was surprised to find it was fine. He had always hated arguing with Sam; both of them were stubborn and could hold onto an argument for longer than was healthy. It felt like something had shifted within their relationship, he couldn't put his finger on it but they could never have called a truce like this before they split up. Sam would never have suggested it and he would never have agreed. They had both changed during the time they were apart and after Sam's injury. He stroked Sam's hair gently before letting his hand drop down so it came to rest on her neat but growing bump. Perhaps they might not be so hopeless at being parents as he had always thought.

* * *

"You like the boat." Dylan was unable to resist pointing out the next morning at work when he saw her during a brief quiet moment.

"_I_ can swim." Sam pointed out in return.

Dylan was confused but pressed her anyway. "What's that got to do with it? There's no rush to do any of this. And why do we need to buy a house? Why can't we just rent?"

"Why don't you want to buy a house? You've always dragged your feet over this, even…" She lowered her voice as another colleague came to stand next to them. "…even when we were first married. Why?" She challenged him and Dylan could see she was deadly serious about this.

"I'm not dragging my feet. I just don't see what the rush is."

Sam stared at him. "This is the rush Keogh." She gestured to her stomach. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but we do have a deadline here."

"I still don't see…"

"Fine. I for one am anxious to live on a houseboat with a curious toddler. But it's okay; we can both swim and know CPR." She slung the file down on the desk in frustration and walked off.

Dylan watched her go, uncertain where her fears where coming from. It would be a long time until they would have to worry about that, so why was she being so dramatic? It was very out of character.

Zoe had appeared again. "While I'm sure the staff are really enthralled by your personal life, perhaps you could keep the marital spats to outside work?" She handed him a load of paperwork that he looked at and groaned. He would have to take it home tonight.

"I'd rather skip them altogether." He said glumly. Zoe walked away, before sighing and turning back unwillingly.

"Listen Dylan, I want to be sympathetic I do but… Do you remember Adam, the consultant who was leaving just as you started?"

"No. What's that got to do with it?" Dylan tried to remember him, but he wasn't very good with names and the man had obviously done nothing to distinguish himself to Dylan personally.

"He had a little boy, Harry. He was eighteen months old and he drowned. Adam lost everything. His wife, his son, he stayed here for a while afterwards but in the end he had to move on. However careful you think you are going to be accidents happen. Sam isn't trying to make you conform or change. She just sees the boat as a risk she isn't willing to take."

Dylan just looked at her, speechless. Was that what Sam was getting at? He was such an idiot. Why couldn't she have just said that?

"Just buy a house Dylan." Zoe said and walked off, irritated.

* * *

Sam stared up at the house, her arms wrapped around herself, her breath frosty in the winter air. "Why are we here Dylan?" She sounded like her patience was running out.

"The house. It's ours." He said, watching her carefully, hoping he had judged this right.

She looked at him in shock for a moment before she gave him a disgusted look. She turned away, laughing mirthlessly. She walked straight past the jeep, seemingly so angry she wasn't paying any attention.

"You don't like it?" Dylan said, the sinking feeling being pushed aside in favour of fixing things with Sam.

She stopped then and turned around. "That's not really the point is it?" She shook her head and turned away from him again. "You don't understand." Now she sounded upset and that was worse than angry, far worse.

"I wanted to… I wanted to apologise for not doing this sooner, but I got everything on the list."

"The list?" Sam wiped away a tear surreptiously as she turned back to him again and Dylan pretended not to see it, as he knew she hated the pregnancy hormones which meant she couldn't control her reactions as she normally would. Dylan hated to see her cry, but he was sometimes grateful that Sam was showing her emotions instead of hiding them away so he didn't know when he'd said something wrong.

Dylan pulled the handwritten list out of his pocket and moved closer to her. "A garden, preferably big, nice combined kitchen dining room, three or more bedrooms…"

She tugged it from his hand, scanning it quickly. "This is from before. When we were looking for a house in Plymouth, it's the list I left you when I was going away for the first time to Germany. How did you…?" She looked conflicted but then her expression hardened. "I've been through this with you before Dylan. You say it's ours but it's not ours, not really. The baby deserves to have a permanent home, not some rented place, no matter how nice it is."

Now Dylan was confused. "It's not rented. I bought it. I said it was ours."

Sam stared at him. "You said The Hollies was ours and it wasn't. I thought…"She was watching him intently now, like she didn't quite believe him.

"Let me show you." He offered her his hand and she took it and allowed him to pull her towards the house. It was a 19th century brick building, the walls half covered in ivy and the sash windows giving it a grand look. She still seemed a bit dazed but at least she didn't look so upset anymore. He extracted the keys from his pocket and she waited patiently as he unlocked the front door and led her into the hall which looked like it still had the original Victorian tiles. Their footsteps echoed in the empty house and Sam looked around with interest, placing her hand on his arm suddenly.

"You bought a house, on your own, without asking me." Dylan swallowed; he had meant it as an apology, not as the massive mistake it had clearly been. This kind of thing was not his strong point.

She smiled at him suddenly, her smile as always causing him to relax and appreciate her beauty all over again. She was hugging him then. "You're bloody lucky it's a really nice house." Dylan hugged her back, letting out a deep breath as he realised that she seemed happy and it looked like he had got away with it.

She let him go. She was still smiling that smile that made him want to give her anything she wanted and he couldn't help the smile that came to his face too as if her happiness was infectious.

"It's so big! How can we afford it?" She said as she followed him to the kitchen. Dylan stopped dead and she nearly walked into him.

"Apparently we need to sit down and have a conversation about money." He said and she looked at him apprehensively.

"We've more or less got through six years of our relationship without talking about money. Why break the habit now?" She said lightly but there was an uncomfortable edge to her voice.

"Because when your contract ends you won't be able to work for a few months. You're going to have to allow me to support you for a while."

"Support me?" Sam sounded like he may as well have just sworn at her. "I don't need to be supported, as you so patronisingly put it."

"Why not? In fact you only work part-time now. We should have already sorted these things out Sam. You were right about the house and this is the next step."

"No. I'm perfectly fine with the way things are and I can look after myself!" He seemed to have touched a nerve but he knew to back down now would be to allow her to avoid the conversation for the foreseeable future. Previously he would have done that, but this was a problem in which he was determined to have his own way. Sam was being irrational.

"That may be so, but we are both responsible for the baby. Would you still be working part-time if you weren't pregnant?"

"Of course not." She looked insulted at the idea.

"Then I don't see the problem. We aren't housemates sharing the rent and bills anymore Sam. We're married with a baby on the way. It's not unreasonable for us to join things up properly."

She rubbed her forehead. "Dylan, I don't want to rely on you in that way. I'm not going to be one of those women who has her husband's credit card and lives the life he can afford. We're supposed to be equal partners."

"We are equal. I rely on you. Why shouldn't you rely on me?" Dylan tried to keep the hurt out of his voice. "Would it be so bad?"

"You don't rely on me. You got along perfectly well without me." Sam sounded certain of this.

"You really have no idea do you? I was miserable without you." He admitted, feeling uncomfortable.

"You said you were miserable when we were married." Sam said softly, looking like this upset her. She moved away from him self consciously, pretending to examine the view from the window. Dylan was confused for a moment before realising that she was remembering his rash words from a year ago, after the fire. It told him just how much he had hurt her.

"I was miserable when you were away, not because you made me unhappy."

Sam regarded him carefully, obviously trying to process this. He could see she desperately wanted to believe that. She moved to stand in front of him, placing her hand on his chest. "I'm not very good at relying on other people."

"That's not really news to me Sam." He said and she broke out into a smile.

She looked around, not moving her hand. "This needs a bit of work if we're going to be in here before the baby is born."

"Leave it to me." Dylan promised.

Sam looked at him in disbelief. "Did you qualify as a kitchen fitter while we were separated?"

"Er… I'm not doing it myself. I'm going to pay people who actually know what they're doing. Because I would like our house not to fall down" Dylan said and Sam laughed.

"Good thinking grumpy."

* * *

Sam was looking forward to getting home tonight. Both she and Dylan had a couple of days off and most of that time would be spent on their new house, working out what needed to be done before they moved in. Sam couldn't help smiling at the thought. They would finally have a permanent home and Sam hoped it would mark a new beginning for them as a couple.

"Dr Nicholls!"

Sam turned at the sound of Louise calling her and took a mental deep breath. The woman seemed to think as she had problems with her hearing everything needed to be shouted. Every other member of staff treated her normally.

"No need to shout Louise." She repeated.

"Of course not doctor. There's a man here to see you."

"Who?"

"He said he's a colleague of yours from the army."

Sam's heart sank. Ian, it must be. She really didn't need this now. If Dylan even suspected the soldier who had given evidence at her hearing was the man she had broken her vows with it would bring everything back to the surface, and she was not sure he had ever really forgiven her, he had just buried it so deep that he didn't have to think about it anymore. She had to keep them apart. She dropped the patient file she had been writing notes in and followed Louise out to the waiting area, approaching the casually dressed man writing a text in front of the reception desk.

"Ian." She surveyed him carefully, unsurprised to find she was a little happy to see him, despite the problems. They had always got on well. They were very alike in some ways. He was the Ian she remembered, handsome and relaxed, the Ian who had been her best friend out in Afghan before things got so complicated.

"I called."

"My phone met with a bit of an accident and I haven't replaced it yet." She turned and walked towards the outside entrance to the E.D. and he fell into step beside her.

"So how are you? I was there when they brought you into Bastion. I didn't think you were going to make it."

Sam pulled her oversized hoodie closer around her as they came out into the cold November air grateful for its voluminous nature which was successfully hiding her pregnancy. "I nearly didn't. I was lucky Ian. And of course I had the best medical team in the British Army."

"Nah. That was me and you Nicko." He grinned at her and nudged her with his shoulder.

"Yes." She looked back to E.D. "I haven't got long."

"You're back with him, aren't you?" Ian pulled her to face him and was suddenly very close to her.

"Yes." Ian took her hand to survey her wedding ring.

She closed her eyes, wondering how to put this. "You were my best friend Ian. I wouldn't have got through it without you, but Dylan…." She looked away, leaving him still holding her hand. "He's my husband and there's a history there that you could never compete with. You know that don't you?"

He didn't step back, instead using his hand to bring her face back towards him gently. "You were my best friend too. I'm going to miss you. I get the feeling if we had never spent that first night together you would still be my best friend."

"You might be right. Are you going back?" Neither of them was in any doubt to where she was referring to.

"Till they kick me out." Sam nodded and he let go of her hand. "I'm glad you're okay. I guess I just had to see for myself. Goodbye Sam."

"Goodbye Ian." She stepped back and he walked away. She watched him go, before turning back to the E.D. entrance. Dylan was standing there watching her, his face as unreadable as she had ever seen it. She walked towards him and stopped beside him, expecting him to say something. He didn't look in her direction, keeping his eyes fixed on a far off point. She shook her head and walked straight past him, knowing his MO by now.

She went back and was stopped by Louise. "Dr Keogh was looking for you."

"Well he found me. Thanks for that." She snapped at her before retrieving the patient notes from where she had left them, feeling nauseous. The whole conversation had taken less than a few minutes, but it felt like it had the potential to reopen a gaping wound in her marriage which had never really healed, had just scabbed over. She started to finish her notes but the words started swimming in front of her eyes. She left them again, this time to compose herself in the ladies.

These bloody hormones, she was not a crier she told herself as she once again found herself leaning against the cubicle wall with her hand over her mouth trying to stifle the tears she knew she wasn't entitled to be crying. It was her mistake, her fault and she knew he was paying for it, even now. How she felt was nothing to what she had done to him. Dylan took his time, he didn't trust easily, but when he did he did so wholeheartedly. He had loved her without reservation and she had let him push her away. She had let him down. She wished once again to go back and change what she had done. She wished she could give her younger self a good talking to. It was the worst mistake of her life. The crying was giving her a headache and making her nausea worse. She had to get herself under control. Instead it was all going through her head, Ian and Dylan and the man she had killed and Ryan who she still hadn't visited and Sarah and Jonny and the man who wanted her dead until she felt she needed to scream.

"Sam? Sam are you in here?" Sam went silent quickly, listening, hoping Tess would leave her in peace at the same time as she didn't really want her to go.

"Sam are you okay? Louise said you were upset." Sam couldn't help rolling her eyes. That woman was completely oblivious to everyone else's feelings except it appeared, the time they most wanted her oblivious. She dashed at her eyes quickly, finding control was not so out of her reach now there was someone else to put on a front for.

"I'm okay. I just felt a little nauseous and upset. I'll be out in a minute." Sam said, hoping that was a strong enough dismissal. Tess was silent but she didn't leave and Sam realised she was going to have to come out and face her.

She went straight past Tess to the mirror. "Stupid hormones. Driving me nuts." She said cheerily, splashing water onto her face to try and shift the tear marks. Tess handed her some paper towels to dry her face.

"Louise said you had a visitor. A former colleague?"

"Yes. We served together in Afghanistan." Sam tried to control herself but she could feel the tears sneaking up on her again.

"Brought it all back again?" Tess said sympathetically and Sam felt like a fraud. She shook her head. "I slept with him while I was married to Dylan. It's the reason we split up." She blurted out, unwilling to let Tess think this was related to her army service, and therefore deserving of any kind of sympathy. "Dylan never knew who it was I cheated with. And now I think he does. All I do is hurt him." She was becoming incoherent again now and Tess was quick to step forward with a hand rubbing her arm.

"I'm sure that's not true. Dylan loves you. You should have seen him when he showed me your twelve week scan. I've never seen him smile so much." Sam was taken aback by this.

"He told you about the baby after the twelve week scan?" She regarded Tess with new eyes. If Dylan trusted her enough to tell her about the baby before everyone else maybe she knew what she was talking about. "Am I being a drama queen?" Sam said suddenly. "Never mind." She said before Tess could answer. She returned once more to the sink and cold water, trying again to get herself under control. "I feel a bit ridiculous. I'm not normally the crying kind of girl. And now I've gone and told you personal stuff I'm sure you didn't want to know. I was just really upset, I'm sorry"

"When I was pregnant with Sam, my son, I once sobbed for an hour because we had run out of custard creams. I was inconsolable." Tess said and Sam laughed in spite of herself. "Blame the hormones, that's what I did." Sam took a deep breath and nodded. "This thing with Dylan, he might be angry, but I don't doubt you'll sort it out."

"How are you so sure?" Sam asked her.

"This is all in the past, however much it hurts, you and the baby are his future, and he knows that." Tess passed her another paper towel and she blotted at her face, feeling like her seesawing emotions were evening out a little.

"Thanks Tess." She said. Tess gave her a little smile and left and Sam took another deep breath and followed her out before she could change her mind.

* * *

Sam went home and stood in the kitchen of the boat, turning on the radio and staring out of the window at the driving rain.

She decided to warm up something from the freezer, she couldn't be bothered cooking properly she was too drained by her little outburst and the uncertainty of what may be still to come. She changed and showered, allowing the hot water to soothe away her back ache, which was still bothering her three weeks after her little escapade at the farm. By the time Dylan was due home she was tucked up cosily on the sofa with half an eye on some American sitcom she hadn't seen before.

She startled awake to the feeling of the sofa dipping next to her and the press of lips against her forehead. She opened her eyes and looked into his. He had that same unreadable expression he had when he had seen her with Ian earlier for a moment, before he smiled at her and Sam relaxed. Maybe he hadn't worked it out.

"Wakey wakey sleepyhead. You haven't even had dinner yet."

"I'll have to take that program off my list of things to watch. I was asleep within two minutes." Dylan offered her his hand and she used it to pull herself upright and her swing her legs over the side. Sam stood up but she suddenly felt the oddest sensation and let out a little gasp, clutching her stomach instinctively.

"What is it?" Dylan had his arm around her waist in a second, probably worried she was going to faint, his casual expression replaced by one of worry. Sam grabbed his hand and brought it to her stomach quickly.

"I think she kicked!" Dylan looked relieved. Sam felt it again and Dylan expression changed to one of confusion as he flexed his hand on her stomach.

"I could feel her." He said slowly.

"I thought I was feeling her move, but I thought I was imaging it, it feels so odd. She definitely kicked." Sam laughed; delighted by the new sensation and by the proof of their unborn daughter's fighting spirit. Dylan was still standing incredibly close, his arm still curled around her waist and she kissed him on impulse, putting her arms around his neck. He moved his other hand from her stomach and used it to pull her closer deepening the kiss.

* * *

_The Hollies, 2010_

_Sam watched her husband carefully. He had done a morning surgery and she had been for a run with Dervy. Sam had found it really weird, though her neighbours had not recognised her, they had recognised Dervy and so she had been greeted by a smile by everyone she saw. She had even been stopped three times to talk about the baby she had delivered. The people of Carybrooke clearly thought they had got a two for one deal when they had acquired their new doctor._

"_Let's go out for lunch?" Dylan had said and Sam had agreed. They had walked to the local pub, where the food wasn't bad to be honest. Sam had felt herself watching Dylan as he ordered alcohol with their meal and had hated herself for even thinking what Carly had said was true. He had seemed a bit surprised she wasn't drinking too but he had not let it spoil his fun. Sam knew if it was not for what Carly had said she would be drinking along with him without a second thought._

_When they got back to the house Dylan clicked the radio on and there was a song they liked playing. _

'_I'd like to make myself believe  
That planet Earth turns slowly  
It's hard to say that I'd rather stay  
Awake when I'm asleep  
'Cause everything is never as it seems'_

_He held out his hand and bowed and she laughed at his behaviour trying to put her fears aside and just enjoy the time with her husband in the here and now. This was their first dance in their new home and she was leaving again in four days. Jess was wrong. This was her Dylan. _

* * *

_York, 2010_

_Dylan felt out of place and awkward. He looked around the church at the mourners. There were so many there had been loudspeakers set up outside church. He couldn't help feeling he didn't deserve to be there, that maybe someone who had actually known Lieutenant Mark Radcliffe should be sitting in his place. That didn't mean he would leave of course. He had married an amazing woman and she needed to be here to say goodbye to her friend. It was times like these when Dylan really appreciated what a male dominated profession Sam was in. _

_Dotted all over the large church were people dressed just like him and Sam. One person in uniform and one person in black. What was different with him and Sam was that she was the one in full dress uniform, not him. They probably weren't the only ones. It just really struck him then, hard, like it did once in a while when he wasn't expecting it, that he was only one stray bullet, one missed IED, one helicopter crash from walking behind her flag draped coffin himself._

_He felt the now familiar panic fill him at the thought. He really needed a drink. He deserved one after this, definitely. The widow was unbelievably young, clutching a young child tightly to her chest, unable to summon the strength to quiet his babbling. She was young enough to start over. She had her child, a living reminder of the man she had lost. She still had a life ahead of her. What would he have, if he was in her place? He couldn't start again, he wasn't capable of it. He had taken one chance in his life and he couldn't see himself making the same decision now. _

_Sometimes he wished he never met her and then he felt unbelievably guilty because he loved her, he really did, but she came with this massive risk that he was no longer sure he was capable of standing. She sensed it too, he knew she did, sensed his doubt and his desire to pull away. He kept telling himself it was only three more years, but the truth he didn't want to admit to her and himself, was that he didn't think he was capable of lasting three more years. When she went to Afghanistan again, he wasn't sure he would be here when she came back. _


	22. Chapter 22

The Damage We Do – Chapter 22

As always, ridiculously late, sorry. Dunno if anyone is still reading this after what's gone on between these two in the program but I intend to finish this anyway. So there! Only one short flashback in this one.

Merry Christmas and thanks to the reviewers who keep me going despite my insane workload. You are the reason this chapter exists. Abbey, casualty . hp . 11. , Lucy and Rebekah and also ficmouse for listening to my rants…. Ta!

As always reviews are appreciated. And I don't own Gabrielle Aplin's the power of love which I have shamelessly listened to and included while writing this chapter. Also I don't own casualty or any storylines from any episodes which have been transmitted.

Merry Christmas everyone!

* * *

_Afghanistan, 2010_

_Sam listened to what the person on the other end of the phone was saying with mounting frustration. "I'm really worried about him. He won't listen to me. He's lost control of his drinking completely. He's never been this bad before. " Jack sounded the most worried she had ever heard him.  
_

_Sam jumped on that. "What do you mean? He's done this before?" She interrogated Jack angrily, wanting someone, anyone to be blamed for this. Carly had told her there was a problem and she had completely ignored her. She hadn't even broached the subject. She hadn't wanted to believe it._

"_It was never this bad and he got much better when he met you. He let you in." Jack said simply._

_Sam let the tears fall at that, feeling utterly hopeless. "I don't know what you expect me to do Jack?" She pleaded for him to understand. "I'm stuck three thousand miles away. I can't do anything. He hasn't been answering the phone to me. I only get to call for thirty minutes twice a week and he hasn't been answering the damn phone to me. It's not exactly a picnic for me out here you know. It's like he doesn't care if I come back or not." She told Jack what she had been feeling, lying awake in the cold and dark of the night, her worst fear, that he had forgotten about her and moved on, that she had been gone too long and he had learned he was better off without her._

"_That's bullshit. He adores you but this is breaking his heart. You need to come back." Jack said simply._

"_I can't!" Sam said angrily. Even if she was willing to let her fellow soldiers down, you couldn't just decide you wanted out of an active tour of duty. What was she supposed to do, shoot herself?_

"_And I can't watch my best friend destroy himself over some girl Sam. Make up your mind where your priorities lie." Jack's patience seemed to run out and he put the phone down on her._

_Sam hung up and stared at the phone. In a sudden flash of anger she punched the wall, hard. She left a smear of blood behind and pain pulsed up her arm. She stood there for a moment and then wiped her tears away with her other hand, shoved her injured hand in her pocket and walked away. She walked quickly, not wanting to stop and talk to anyone. _

_She came to a sharp stop as someone grabbed her injured arm and she cried out in pain._

"_Nicko? What's up?" Ian asked her with concern. _

_Sam relaxed immediately. Ian was not an officer but was still her closest friend on base. She wanted to tell him what was going on with Dylan but she couldn't find the words to admit the complete mess she had made of things. She couldn't help feeling this was all her fault._

"_It's nothing." She said, avoiding his eyes._

"_Bullshit. Something happened. Who hurt your arm?" He asked suspiciously._

_She shook him off. "No one __**Corporal!**__"_

"_I don't believe you, __**Captain.**__" He said sarcastically emphasising her rank and Sam noticed a couple of people eyeing them as they walked past. _

"_It was me, alright? I punched the wall. It was a stupid thing to do and I won't do it again." She hissed at him._

"_What's going on Sam?" He asked, more gently than he normally spoke. Sam bit her lip. She hated telling anyone her problems, showing anyone any weakness but she trusted Ian with her life everyday and they couldn't continue to stand in the corridor arguing. Nor could she risk Ian reporting her injury. If she had to explain it there would naturally be concerns about her mental health and there was nothing wrong with her. She wasn't the one with the problem. _

"_It's Dylan." She said. Ian's face took on an unreadable expression for a moment. _

_"Look, why don't we go somewhere and I can have a look at that hand eh? You can tell me just what is so awful that you're taking chunks out of the architecture."_

_Sam nodded. "Thanks." _

* * *

Holby, 2012

"I will get around to it Dylan! At the moment I have patients to see!" Sam said evasively.

Dylan was unmoving. "You've been promising to get around to it for two months. Come with me." He pulled her by the arm to cubicle 2. He drew back the curtain to reveal Tess who was waiting with the injection.

"This is a conspiracy." Sam said sulkily as she plonked herself down on the bed.

Dylan stood over her glowering.

"Why are you stood like that? Are you going to sit on my legs if I make a break for it?" She said sarcastically rolling up her sleeve so Tess could give her the jab.

Tess smirked and nodded towards him standing there with his arms crossed. "He's the muscle." She said and Sam couldn't help laughing at Dylan's expression as he clearly couldn't decide if it was a compliment or an insult.

"There, all done." Tess announced.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Dylan said quickly.

"I wasn't worried about it; I just hadn't got around to it. I've never had to have it before. In fact I can't even remember having Flu."

"Well you're more vulnerable to it now and it not like there's a shortage of sick people to give it to you in this place." Someone gave a hacking cough in the background as if for emphasis.

"I'm not 'vulnerable'." Sam said in a low tone.

"You went through a major trauma and invasive surgery less than six months ago, not to mention the drop in immune system efficiency pregnancy brings" Dylan said quietly.

Sam held up her hands to ward him off. "I don't do vulnerable okay."

"I know this is uncomfortable for you to admit, but it's not a sign of weakness."

Sam huffed. "I have patients to see."

* * *

Sam stood next to the jeep, Dylan had driven today and she waited for him to unlock the passenger door for her as the jeep was so old the central locking was broken. She caught sight of Tom who had also finished at the same time and watched him ride off on his bike enviously. He caught her watching and gave her a friendly wave and Sam felt a black cloud descend on her. She was already sick of being treated as 'vulnerable' and she was only halfway through her pregnancy. She was going to go crazy with boredom before she made it to 40 weeks. She was used to being able to work off her stress physically, by pushing herself or by doing something fun. Now that was closed off to her and she didn't really know what to do with herself. Dylan was already getting on her nerves about being sensible and it didn't seem to matter to her that he was completely right, it was still building up and up and she was sure at some point she would explode at him, which wasn't fair to him at all.

"Sam?" She jumped and realised Dylan had opened the door for her and she hadn't been paying attention. He followed her gaze and saw her watching Tom disappear around the corner. He frowned.

"Sorry. Miles away."

"Of course." He said in an annoyed manner and was quiet for the rest of the drive.

That night Sam had her laptop on her lap, feeling restless and in a bad mood and knowing she had no one to blame but herself. She needed a distraction, and usually she would go out and find herself one, but all her favourite things were also things that would put baby in danger and she was in no hurry to do that, no matter how frustrated she was.

There were lots of recommendations for exercise during pregnancy, but none of the activities were quite capable of giving her the enjoyment rock climbing or abseiling did. Yoga wasn't exactly known for the adrenaline rush. MMA was also out of the question. Swimming wasn't so bad she supposed, she would have to join the gym for that. She missed her bike, but she knew the amount of near misses she had so far over her cycling career she should definitely leave that alone for now. She also had the vague suspicion that her balance had not been the same since her injury and she was not quite up to cycling anymore. She slammed the laptop shut in frustration.

"Everything alright?" Dylan said.

"Just Peachy." Sam fired back, feeling like she would enjoy a good fight right about now.

Dylan avoided eye contact and Sam gave up and walked off, feeling like she was being irrational but unsure how to stop feeling like this.

* * *

The next day at work, Sam was working with Tom in resus, treating a father and son who had been in a house fire. The child wasn't very badly hurt but the father had sustained significant burns. Naturally he was more concerned about the little boy and Sam almost had to sedate him before they had been able to move the child so that the father could see him and see that he was okay.

"You seem a bit tightly wound today." Tom commented later in the staffroom.

"Thanks." Sam said dryly.

"I just mean you seem like you have something on your mind." He explained

"You got it right the first time." Sam admitted. "I'm missing going out and doing things, now I know I'm not going back to the army and this is all there is. And I miss my bike."

"Not allowed anymore eh?" Tom nudged her playfully.

"No." Sam said ruefully. "It's making me feel a little…." She trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

"Trapped?" Tom offered.

"I just need an adrenaline rush. A safe adrenaline rush." Sam said, not really sure if Tom was correct or not.

Tom smiled at her. "There's no such thing."

"There must be. Or I'll go crazy." She said allowing her frustration out into the open.

Tom thought for a moment. "Sex. You could always have an affair! I hear Big Mac is on the market."

Sam almost dropped her cup of tea. She forced a smile but just the word affair made her stomach turn uneasily. She turned around so Tom couldn't see her face and came face to face with her husband. She let the fake smile go quickly. There was a black look on his face and he stared at her for a moment before going straight to his locker, withdrawing his wallet and walking off through the door without saying anything.

Sam realised she was holding her breath and released it.

"I'm sorry, I was just teasing you." Tom sounded uncomfortable behind her.

"It's fine." Sam said still staring at the door absently. Tom put his hand on her shoulder briefly and left her. She was sure he knew she was lying.

* * *

Tom scoured the department for Dylan. It wasn't sitting well with him, he cursed why he had even thought that was a funny joke. It wasn't, not really, he should really just stick to medicine and keep out of other people's business. He had just been trying to cheer Sam up. They were very similar and he knew he would be climbing the walls if he had been restricted from doing what he wanted for such a long period of time. Women definitely had a rough deal.

He really hoped Dylan was just being his ordinary ornery self and the older man hadn't thought he had been flirting with Sam, because that was not Tom's idea of friendship. He cursed as he ran out of places to look, where had Dylan gone?

"Seen Dylan?" he finally asked Charlie.

"Have you tried Zoe's office? He said something earlier about making a phone call."

"Thanks Charlie."

Tom took a deep breath before knocking and entering. Dylan appeared to be staring at his phone but looked up at Tom's entrance.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Would you care if you were?" Dylan said and Tom could detect a certain hostility in his tone that was above his ordinary level of grumpiness.

"Listen, I might have overstepped earlier. I'm sorry if I offended you, it was just a really bad joke."

"Yes" Dylan said not giving any ground.

"I'll try to keep the dodgy jokes to a minimum in future."

"Good."

Tom went to leave but turned back. "Look, tell me to mind my own business but if you want to talk or anything, I'm a good listener." Dylan stared at him silently, then looked away.

"It's ….complicated." Dylan said slowly. He looked down at the phone and pressed cancel. He put it away.

"Sam is having a rough time at the moment. She…." He appeared to be trying to choose his words carefully and Tom furrowed his brow, wondering where this was going.

"She told me she's missing her dangerous sports." Tom offered. Dylan considered him and Tom could almost sense the moment when he drew back and decided not to tell him anymore. Talking to Dylan about something personal was worse than trying to get a paediatric patient to tell you a secret. It was the same trust gaining, painstaking process, except Dylan had an adults understanding and distrust of motives to contend with.

"I have to get on. Shut the door behind you or Zoe will have my neck." Dylan was past him and out of the door before he could blink. Tom watched him go before shrugging. Figuring out whatever made Dylan tick was obviously well above his pay band.

* * *

Sam sat on the bed watching Dylan getting undressed. She was not feeling remotely sleepy, despite being tired. The question of the conversation Dylan had overheard earlier was still on her mind.

"I'm not working tomorrow. I thought I might go to the house; see how the workmen are getting on." Sam said casually.

"Good. Check they haven't knocked down any of the important walls, would you?"

"I'll do my best but I'm not sure I'd know which walls are important."

"Well, the outside four for a start." Dylan said dryly.

Sam couldn't help giving him a 'no? really?' look. "It'll be great when everything is all done and we can move in. Dylan, I know I've been a bit of a nightmare to live with at the moment. I'm sorry." Sam said honestly. None of her frustration was Dylan's fault after all.

Dylan stopped what he was doing and regarded her. "I don't care." He said baldly.

Sam was taken aback. That was a bit harsh. At least she had tried to put things right. "What do you mean?" She said, now hoping he was not looking for an argument after actively seeking one all week.

"Yes, you're being annoying and moody. So what?"

"So…what?" Sam repeated, so lost now that even being described in those unflattering terms didn't really bother her.

"I'm a doctor Sam. I know the hormones rushing through your system now could drive most sane women fairly crazy fairly quickly."

Sam didn't know whether to be annoyed he assumed all her emotions were down to pregnancy or relieved she was off the hook. She finally settled on relieved. "Right. So you're not angry with me?"

"No." He seemed definite about this.

"You seemed angry earlier." Sam said, remembering the black look on his face.

"When?" Dylan said evasively but Sam sensed he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"When…Tom said…" Sam trailed off, knowing she could not physically say the word affair to Dylan. She was horrified to realise she was tearing up for absolutely no reason. "When I was talking to Tom, you looked angry." She said, trying to not cry. She got up out of the bed and went to the window, letting her hair down to fall over her face to try and cover that once again she could not control her emotions. Dylan was right. She was a mess and Dylan was always so in control. It was embarrassing.

Dylan was silent and Sam risked looking at him and was surprised to see he looked a bit sheepish. It was his turn to turn away from her. "It was nothing. I wasn't angry."

"Yes. Yes you were." Sam said and annoyingly the tears seeped into her voice. She knew there was no hiding it now and fiddled with the plastic hair clip she now held loosely in her hand. "Sorry, I'm off again." She said motioning to the tears.

Dylan sighed and came over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Don't apologise to me. Tom is a lot like you. And you get on very well with him. I may have been ….a little jealous." He admitted reluctantly.

Sam felt the guilt wash over her like a wave. She felt like breaking something, like smashing something into a million pieces. She was so angry with herself. Of course he felt a bit insecure. After all he had trusted her before and she had cheated on him. She tried to control the maelstrom of emotions inside of her, the tension threatening to erupt someway.

She felt something crunch in her hand and felt a sudden flash of pain. "Ahh!" She exclaimed.

"Sam?" Dylan said sharply and pulled his hands away from her shoulders, going instead for her left hand. She was confused for a moment before she opened it instinctively and the remains of one of her plastic hair clips fell out onto the floor, joining the drops of her blood on the carpet.

Sam avoided his eyes, breathing deeply like she had just been running. Bizarrely she felt better now. Or she did until she finally got the courage to look her husband in the eye. He looked horrified and she felt ashamed all over again. He pulled her swiftly into the bathroom and sat her down on the closed lavatory, rifling through their first aid kit silently. Sam was reminded of their first ever argument as a married couple, when she had gone out and got a bit too close to the trees hang gliding in Mexico. He had cleaned her up then too. But he hadn't looked at her like that.

"Why did you do that?" He said quietly as he picked a bit of plastic out of her hand. "Because I said I was jealous? Are you punishing me?"

Sam looked up from staring at her hand. "No! It's my fault you feel like that. You never worried before."

Dylan regarded her seriously. "Of course I did. You spent all your time with other men who were young athletic and exponentiallly less grumpy. But I never doubted you loved me. I thought that was enough."

"And now you know better." Sam said bitterly. "I did that to you." She watched the blood drip from the end of her fingers with a detachment she knew wasn't healthy.

"You were right, when we were down in that blasted cave. We were both to blame. That's when I forgave you." He said and Sam brought her head up sharply in shock.

She examined him with her eyes. He was telling the truth, she could tell, it was in every line of his face and every part of his body language. "I love you." She wanted him to know she was telling the truth too, that she meant it with every fibre of her being.

"You need to stop doing this Sam. Hurting yourself doesn't help."

"I don't mean to. I don't mean to hurt you either. It just all builds up and up and I can't deal with it the way I normally would." She felt miserable now.

"What, by risking your neck in some extreme sport? Good. You're lucky, you won't need stitches." He let go of her hand. "We need to find you a new way of dealing with things."

"But things like running, pushing myself, it's what I've always done. How am I supposed to learn a whole new way of coping with things?" Sam said, honestly doubting that she could do it.

"I did." Dylan said simply and she considered him silently. Dylan had always used alcohol to cope with things, she had realised that since they had split up, she just hadn't seen it, or wanted to see it at the time. If he could learn to live without it, maybe she could learn another way to cope too.

* * *

Sam started awake, the comforting lamp light instantly reassuring her that she was at home in the houseboat. She sat up, feeling at once that since she was awake she may as well use the bathroom. She shivered; it had been a long time since she had that dream. It had long since been replaced by more recent traumas, but the loneliness, the cold the fear and the certainty that her mother was lying next to her dead was suddenly very real to her. She considered going back to bed, but she was awake now and there was certain solitude to the early morning hours that now attracted her. She wandered into the living room, going for the sofa and the throw, wrapping it around her shoulders silently and putting on the lamp.

She didn't know why that awful night was suddenly on her mind. The human mind worked in funny ways. She supposed maybe she was thinking back to her own mother as she considered what kind of mother she would be. She had never really been the most maternal, never been the first to coo over her friends babies and she had always been relieved to hand them back. They had been cute and everything but nothing that had meant anything to her particularly.

She thought about the teenager whose mother had brought her in today, who she had informed about her pregnancy. The girl had been devastated, still a child herself and she had looked to her mother to make it right. That always tugged at Sam's heart a little, seeing a mother and daughter together, made her wish for what she couldn't have. Now the time was coming where she would have that again, but as the parent in the relationship instead of the child. It was terrifying. Her baby would look at her with that complete trust she had once bestowed on her own mother.

Sam still felt so young herself, despite what she had seen and done. She was only twenty-seven. Her eyes caught movement and she saw Dervla's dark shape descend the stairs from the kitchen, obviously disturbed by the light. Dervla unceremoniously jumped up onto the sofa and lay flat out across it; placing her head on Sam's lap and regarding her with big brown eyes. Sam would normally have told her off for jumping on the sofa, but something stopped her tonight. She stroked the dog's soft fur, finding comfort in the repetitive motion. Dervla was like a little dog shaped hot water bottle sometimes. Sam found herself smiling at her as the dogs eyes closed in appreciation of her attention.

Dervla's ears perked up and Sam looked up to see Dylan standing in the doorway watching them silently.

"Is it because I'm not furry enough?" He said dryly.

"You're plenty furry enough grumpy. This is a girls bonding session."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Nightmare. About my mother." She admitted.

Dylan sat down on the sofa and Dervla regarded him balefully. "Budge up, mischief." The dog moved off the sofa and lay down on the rug, putting her head on her paws and sighing dramatically.

Dylan couldn't help but smile as he wrapped his arms around Sam and she snuggled up to him.

"I think we should have a day off tomorrow."

"We do have a day off. We were going to do some work on the house." Sam said with confusion.

"I think we should have a proper day off. Go for a drive, have lunch out, take Dervla for a long walk. Relax."

"But we have so little time to get the house sorted. I won't be able to relax until it's done."

"We have ages. You're only twenty weeks. That means we have twenty weeks to go. We deserve a day off. I've been working so much I feel like I only see you in work."

"I know." Sam agreed.

"Hopefully the new locum consultant will take the slack off." Dylan said

"New locum? Who?" Sam said curiously.

Dylan shrugged. "Zoe and Hansen interviewed him. He starts next week. Dominic something."

"I hope he's good. We could use the help coming up to the winter."

Dylan grunted in agreement and stood. "Coming back to bed?" He said hopefully and Sam gave him her hand to pull her to her feet. Dervla sighed and disappeared back to her basket and Sam followed Dylan back to their bed.

* * *

Jeff caught Dylan on the arm as he was going past. "Can I have a quick word?"

Dylan stared at him. The usually cheeky paramedic was looking very subdued, not his usual self at all. "Yes."

Jeff pulled him to one side. "I've got a mate on the force and I bumped into him yesterday. There's something you should know."

* * *

Dylan paced, feeling like he had to do something, anything, to make this go away. The guilt rose again and he pulled out his phone, finally calling the number he had been looking at for the past few weeks.

It rung for only a second before a young male voice answered. "Lord Keogh is in a meeting, would you like to leave a message?"

Dylan huffed. "Yes. It's Dylan, his brother. Tell him I need to speak with him." He hung up before the assistant could say anything else.

* * *

Sam watched the woman who was with one of Dylan's patients. She looked strangely familiar, but Sam felt she was seeing her out of context somehow. She shook her head and went back to her paperwork until Dylan appeared next to her to use the computer.

"That woman." Sam started, pointing to the lady, now half hidden by the cubicle curtain.

"Amanda?" Dylan said looking uncomfortable.

"Amanda! I knew she looked familiar! How is she?" Sam said, placing her now as the woman from the cave she and Dylan had rescued.

"Recovered. She asked me out." Dylan had an odd tone in his voice, and Sam regarded him more closely.

"Huh. I hope you informed her that you're spoken for grumpy?" She teased.

"I left her in no doubt." Dylan said, his tone now sounding distinctly wary. "In fact, why don't you come and see her? It isn't often we get to see the results of our labours."

"Okay." Sam followed Dylan over to the cubicle.

"You remember my wife, Sam?" He said to Amanda, putting unnecessary emphasis on the wife part.

"I could hardly forget. You two saved my life. I never got the chance to thank you." Amanda smiled back, oblivious to whatever was going on in Dylan's head.

"That's okay. It's good to see you're recovered." Sam said.

"And look at you two. I thought for sure you were heading for divorce. No, that's not quite right, anyone could see you still cared about each other or you wouldn't have been arguing so much."

"We made up." Sam said simply sharing a look with Dylan.

"Yes, it looks like it. When's the baby due?" Amanda seemed genuinely interested. Her friend smiled politely and returned to looking at her phone.

"April. It's a girl." Sam said, used to the patient's questions by now. If ever they were stuck for conversation topics, there was usually one obvious subject they went for, usually followed by a potted history of every birth that had ever taken place in their family, and if the patient was a mother, an in depth description of their birth experiences. Sam was surprised she wasn't in counselling about the birth already, the things she had heard.

Dylan looked annoyed and Sam realised he had not encountered this particular phenomenon yet. After all there was no obvious sign he was about to become a father. With her people saw the bump and assumed the subject was fair game.

"Do you have a name picked out yet?"

"No. We're still looking. Well it was nice to see you Amanda." Sam left and Dylan followed her.

"She was very forward," He said thoughtfully and Sam realised he seemed very wary of Amanda.

"It's normal. People like to talk about babies. I spend half my day talking about Baby Keogh. What's wrong Dylan?" She turned to face him.

"What? Nothing. I just find her a bit creepy, that's all." He walked off and Sam frowned. Creepy? She hadn't got that vibe at all, which suggested it was more Dylan's problem than Amanda's. What was going on in that brain of his now?

* * *

Sam opened the door to a middle aged woman with dark hair.

"Hello" She said. "I'm your next door neighbour, Cora. A package came for you while you were out."

"Oh. Thanks." Sam looked for the package but the woman's hands were empty.

"We're not expecting anything. Are you sure it's for us?"

"It's addressed to your boat. Is your name Keogh?"

"Yes. Sam Keogh." Sam sighed. It was probably furniture or something that should have been delivered to the new house. Dylan was on the night shift and wouldn't be home until morning and if the woman hadn't brought it with her it was probably quite large.

She slipped her hoodie back on and locked up, Cora obviously wanted Sam to come and see what it was.

"I haven't moved it, it seems very heavy, whatever it is."

"It's probably furniture." Sam said casually.

"For the new baby?" Cora asked. "I didn't even know my next door neighbour was dating. Funny how we live so close together and know nothing about each other. Of course, I did leave a welcome present when your partner moved in, but he never responded."

"That sounds like Dylan." Sam smiled "What did you leave him?"

"Nothing much, just a bottle of wine." Cora said casually but Sam got the sense she was still annoyed about it.

"Ah. Dylan doesn't drink." Sam said.

"Yes but still…oh." Cora said sheepishly. "I am sorry. It's so difficult to decide what to get people these days. Chocolate is fattening, people have food allergies or hay fever and are allergic to flowers. It's a nightmare, especially knowing what to get a man." She laughed. "Next time I'll make some cookies."

Cora let her in and Sam could see the package immediately. It was massive and looked like it was one of the wardrobes they had ordered for the bedroom, thought why they had delivered it here was anyone's guess.

She slipped out the invoice and considered it. "I'll give the delivery company a ring and get them to pick it up. It should have gone to the new house really."

"You're moving?" Cora said curiously.

"Yes, we'll need more space when the baby arrives. We have a house; we're just sorting it out so we can move in."

Sam rung the company and was shocked when she managed to get them to agree to pick the wardrobe up within the hour.

"I'm so sorry about this." Sam said as Cora handed her a cup of tea and sat down at the table. Her boat seemed slightly bigger than theirs and was very tastefully decorated.

"Oh don't worry about it. Your partner is working late?"

"He's on the night shift." Sam looked at her watch and joined Cora at the table.

"It's funny to put a name to a face after so long and now I finally get to know you and you're moving again. I hope the next owners of the boat are a bit more sociable!" Cora laughed. "I'm sorry that comes across as rude. But I was quite good friends with the couple your partner bought the boat off"

Sam couldn't help frowning. "We don't own the boat, we rent it."

Cora looked confused. "Oh. They said they sold it to a doctor so when you said your partner was on the nightshift I just assumed that was him."

"Dylan is a doctor, we both are. He's my husband. We've been married for nearly four years." Sam replied mechanically. What did this mean, that Dylan's phobia of buying housing was only related to his time with her? Had she always been the problem? She didn't understand. She had mentioned he was renting the boat and he had never corrected her.

"Oh. That's strange. I mean, I didn't see you before six months ago? Were you working abroad? That can be difficult for a relationship, I know."

"I was in the army" Sam studied her tea. She took a deep breath. "It was difficult. We separated for a time. Then I managed to get a transfer back here and we eventually sorted things out." She smiled wryly. "At the last minute before I went abroad again."

"Good on you for sorting things out. I'm separated but I don't regret it at all. We parted very amicably. We just didn't love each other any more." Cora seemed very matter of fact about it.

"Dylan and I…well we had some things to sort out but I think we are finally in a good place again."

* * *

Dylan got up around oneish, cursing the nightshift that seemed to both turn him into a zombie and cut down on his time with Sam. The boat was quiet and he concluded Sam had taken Dervla out. He made himself some coffee and toast and was eating it sprawled on the sofa watching the BBC news channel when Sam returned.

"Hello. Nice sleep?" She said, fitting herself around him and stealing his toast before he could blink. She was cold and he jumped at her cold hand on his as he tried to rescue his toast.

She pouted as he snatched it back and smiled when he tore it in half to share with her.

"Fine. I'm at the stage where I don't know the difference between day and night anymore." He said grumpily, licking the marmalade off his fingers.

"Ah. I don't seem to get night shifts anymore." Sam said carelessly and Dylan couldn't help tensing. Sam shifted around to face him.

She tilted her head in a suspicious manner and he avoided her eyes. She seemed to take this as a confirmation of guilt. "Dylan!" She exclaimed. "I can still do night shifts." She lowered her voice and took his hand. "You don't have to do that for me."

He shook his head. "I see how tired you get. Not stressing your body is important Sam."

"I'm alright. I miss you when you're on night shifts." She sighed. "I don't sleep very well without you." Now it was her turn to avoid his eyes. She looked embarrassed, as if admitting this weakness to him was something to be ashamed of. Dylan remembered six months ago when he had only just gotten her back and every night had been a struggle, comforting a guilt-ridden and traumatised Sam who relived her experiences in her dreams every night. Sam now was a world away from that person, although flashes of her still appeared every now and then as her episode with the hair clips a few days ago had reminded him.

He squeezed her uninjured hand. "I'm sorry. You wouldn't get many night shifts anyway, not with the regular hours you already cover on a Friday and Saturday night. Let me get on with it." She pulled her legs up towards her and then stopped, frustrated to find it wasn't a comfortable position anymore with her bump in the way. Dylan smiled at this. She seemed to be doing this a lot lately, forgetting and suddenly being reminded that she was now a different shape than she usually was. She rested her hand on her stomach and seemed to switch back to focus on him.

"I met one of our neighbours, Cora from the boat next door."

"Oh yes?" Dylan said not really caring about this at all. He had seen Amanda again yesterday evening; she had started volunteering at the hospital. There was something about that which was making him deeply uneasy, although he couldn't put his finger on why.

"One of our new wardrobes was delivered to her. I sorted it out, but she told me the oddest thing." She paused and Dylan suddenly started paying attention. She was about to drop a bombshell, he could tell. "She said you owned the boat."

"She's right. I do." He said, trying to figure out if he was in trouble.

"But I mentioned months ago that you were paying rent and you agreed?" Sam seemed confused but there was something else in her voice which made him very wary of this topic.

"It wasn't important at the time. I forgot to mention it."

"Right and when we were discussing how I didn't like renting, you didn't think to mention it then? It would have got me off your back, at least for a while, so why didn't you say?" He was definitely in trouble. She was working herself up to go in for the kill.

"It didn't matter. You were right, we couldn't live here long term with a baby. I was just being stubborn."

"I don't understand." Sam said and Dylan could hear it now, the hurt in her voice.

"What don't you understand?" He asked gently, more gently than he would have asked before she became pregnant. He hated to upset her now, though he would never admit that to her in a million years.

She untangled herself from him and faced him, a frown creasing her face as she studied him carefully, as though he was a puzzle. "Why you didn't want to ever buy a house with me but you bought this houseboat on your own without a second thought."

Dylan shook his head, it wasn't that simple. "It wasn't fair. You wanted a nice house to come home to and then leave again, just like you did with me. I couldn't stop you doing that but I wasn't going to make it worse by living in an empty house on my own."

Sam was shocked now. "I never thought of you like that."

Dylan sighed. "Sam, why did you always want a house anyway? Why not a bigger flat, or one in a nicer location?"

She stared at the floor. "I just wanted a place where… it doesn't matter." She rose, distancing herself. "This is all water under the bridge anyway. I shouldn't have brought it up. I was going to change and go shopping. Do you want to come?"

"No." Dylan said reflexively. He would rather stick pins in his eyes than go shopping usually but this conversation felt unfinished. He considered Sam's relieved look and decided he wasn't in the mood to let her run away. "Actually, I think I will come, just give me ten minutes."

"Are you sure?" Sam looked shocked. "I need to get some clothes and I was going to look at some things for the baby?"

Dylan already regretted it, he could usually just about tolerate food shopping but he was not in the mood to back down.

Dylan was ready before Sam, standing there with his warm winter coat buttoned up tight as Sam put hers on. She didn't button hers up; instead putting a heavy scarf over the front to disguise it didn't really fit anymore.

"You need a new coat for a start." He observed.

She wrinkled her nose. "I know." She looked at him wickedly then. "You can help me pick one out. I was so impressed by your fashion sense when you picked out some clothes for me in Birmingham. You obviously have a gift grumpy!"

It was busy and much warmer in the shopping centre and Sam was forced to take off her scarf. She was looking through the rails unhappily as Christmas music blared cheerily. She picked up a tunic with a white and navy blue striped pattern.

"Hmm, stripes are slimming…" She muttered to herself.

Dylan couldn't help it, he laughed out loud. It would take more than a couple of stripes to disguise her baby bump and it was only going to get bigger.

She looked up sharply and hit him in the arm indignantly before laughing at herself. "I'm going to look fat in everything." She said with a resigned air. Dylan rolled his eyes. "You are most certainly not overweight and you should really stop misusing the terminology."

"Its how I feel." Sam shrugged and that stopped him in his tracks.

He stepped closer to her. "I think you look beautiful." She smiled then and he couldn't help smiling back, feeling the familiar warmth in his stomach at the sight.

"You're just saying that" She protested weakly.

"You know what a crap liar I am." He replied. She leaned in close and grasped his hand or a moment and tilted her head in a way that suggested she agreed. She found a coat and appeared to have reached her clothes shopping limit for the day, for which Dylan was profoundly grateful. Sam had never been a particularly hardcore shopper; she stubbornly maintained it was all a bit girly for her. They wandered into a different shop which was all about babies and Dylan was a bit overwhelmed at all the things they seemed to need. He chanced a look at Sam and was relieved to see she looked similarly taken aback. She caught his eye and raised her eyebrows.

"How can someone so little need so much?" She said, peering at the car seats with confusion.

"God knows. We shouldn't buy any of this paraphernalia yet anyway."

She looked up at him teasingly. "Why? Are you being superstitious?"

"No. We just have nowhere to put it at the moment."

"Good point. Plus we are going to have to research what all of this jargon actually means. I thought medical terminology was bad!" Sam took him by the hand and dragged him over to the clothing.

"We should start small. Just a couple of things." She regarded the things in front of her. "Everything's so…pink." She grimaced. "Bump is not going to be a Barbie doll and also we dislike gender stereotypes, don't we?" She looked at Dylan expectantly.

"Yes. Except you always do the cooking and make me clean and you took my name when we married." Dylan teased.

Sam smiled. "Yes and I was the one who was in the army Dylan, me cooking is not going to magically make me into a perfect 50's housewife."

"I'm glad you're secure in that knowledge because you really can't stop cooking. We would starve or become enormously obese from living solely on Chinese food."

"I know."

They looked through the baby clothes, picking up particularly horrific items and showing each other. Dylan picked up one sleep suit with the outline of simplified skeleton on it. It was reduced, probably leftover from Halloween.

"Never too early to start basic anatomy." He quipped.

"What did we say about pink?" Sam said pointedly and he put it back.

She nudged him and showed him an elf suit, complete with hat. "Funny but she'll be born in April." He pointed out.

"Ah well." She picked out something that was most definitely pink and turned it around so he could read the writing. 'My heart belongs to Daddy.'

"Hmm, we both know it's more likely to be the other way round." He said ruefully. Sam put it back; looking like that had struck a chord somehow. She picked up something else and Dylan frowned.

"What is the obsession with putting children in stripes? It looks like a prison uniform." He observed over her shoulder and she laughed, putting it back and finally finding something he would not be ashamed to see his daughter wearing, a little sleep suit in a light purple colour with little white birds printed all over it.

"That's okay."

Sam stared down at it. "I like it too."

They declared victory and walked towards the till past the stuffed animals. Sam stopped and picked one up absently. She looked at the label. "Surface clean only, are they joking?" She put it back and poked at a few more discarding a penguin and a rabbit before coming across a little polar bear. She held it in her hands and Dylan took it off her, it was suitable for a baby from birth and it was very soft.

"She'll get given things like this, won't she?" Sam said.

"So? She's our daughter; we can buy her first bear for her."

"I'm not being too soppy am I?" Sam said regarding the bear Dylan still held in his hands.

"We don't do soppy."

"No. We don't. Right, let's pay for these and get something to eat." Sam suggested.

"Really?" Dylan said, as shopping trips went, this one had been relatively painless and he was going to get something nice and possibly relatively unhealthy to eat.

Sam nodded. "I'm starving." Dylan reflected perhaps this pregnancy thing wasn't all bad.

* * *

"Did you get your secret Santa done?" Sam asked him as he sat down with his cereal when they were both on a break.

"Yes. And I'm done with that ridiculous ritual for another year."

"I'm really looking forward to it actually. I haven't had a night out in ages."

"Well enjoy yourself." Dylan said casually.

"Oh you aren't coming?" Sam said quickly.

"No."

Sam was silent and Dylan looked up. She was studying the cup in her hands with a disappointed expression on her face.

"I don't do pubs." He found himself saying.

"No. of course. I know that." She replied, but she sounded off somehow to him.

* * *

"Why do you need my input?"

"Because it's your house too and we should both like the way it looks?" Sam said incredulously.

"I thought you would want to do it how you liked?" Dylan said, seeming confused.

"Yes but lets face it; I've spent the last nine years in the army. I look at a room with a bed with a mattress on it and think 'sweet'. I'm not exactly interior design Barbie."

"I'm sure I'll like what you pick out. As long as you don't make it too girly." Dylan smirked at her.

"Girly? Me? Have we met?"

"Never mind." Dylan grinned at the image this conjured and walked off towards resus, still smiling. Sam turned away back to the desk.

"My god! Dylan was smiling! Has he had a personality transplant? What have you done to him?"

Sam looked up at the familiar Scottish tone. "Lenny! What are you doing here?"

"I was in the area and just thought I'd drop in on the madhouse. Linda invited me to the Christmas party later."

"Well your beloved partner in crime is around here somewhere."

"Good, I've missed her. Seriously though, what's up with Dylan? He didn't even scowl at me."

"Perhaps he's forgotten who you are?" Sam said sweetly.

"Nah, no-one ever forgets me once they've met me." Lenny said cheekily.

"True. He's just been let off shopping."

"Shopping? Have you properly domesticated him now then?"

Sam shrugged and came out from behind the desk to go back to her patient. Lenny's jaw dropped. "Now I see why he's been smiling!"

Sam followed his gaze and dropped her eyes to her stomach and laughed, shaking her head.

"How long have you got to go?"

"Twentyish weeks. It's a girl."

"You have been busy." Lenny said, packing as much innuendo as he could into that one sentence. Sam rolled her eyes and went back to work.

* * *

Sam pulled self consciously at her dress. She felt like a hippo compared to Zoe and Linda fixing their makeup next to her. She wondered if she should just skip the party and go home with Dylan. It wasn't as if she could drink after all and she was not the most graceful dancer even when not hugely pregnant. Truthfully she usually needed quite a lot of alcohol to dance and that definitely wasn't on the agenda for this evening. She had been quite unreasonably shocked when Dylan had mentioned he wasn't going to the Christmas party. She had no idea why she had thought he would want to go. She shook her head. What did she think, that the main reason he avoided pubs would somehow disappear because they were back together. Sam wasn't an idiot, she knew that Dylan had a problem with alcohol long before she had met him; Jack had told her as much. Their tempestuous relationship hadn't helped his tendency to drink but she had no single handed power to fix everything. She had just been looking forward to the evening and as annoying as it was to admit it, he was now part of her definition of a perfect evening.

She plaited her fringe and applied some lipstick and promised herself she didn't have to stay very long if she felt uncomfortable. She quite liked her dress. It wasn't too short and had a nice neckline, but it couldn't quite disguise the fact it looked like she had a half a bowling ball attached to her stomach. Oh well, she though disconsolately. Maybe it will be dark.

"Are you coming or what?" Linda asked her playfully.

"Of course I am." Sam smiled and grabbed her bag, feeling the tell tale flutter that told her the baby was about to become active. She joined the rest of the girls and felt better as they joked and laughed on their way to the pub.

Sam found a seat and a drink and was soon enjoying herself despite her fears. The door to the pub opened.

"Now I really have seen everything." Zoe said in amazement. Sam followed her gaze and was surprised to see Dylan standing there awkwardly, scanning the room for her.

Sam got up and went over to him. "You came." She smiled shamelessly stating the obvious.

"Yes. I'm not drinking though." Sam felt a stab of relief.

"Neither am I, funnily enough." She said cheekily. "Fancy a dance?" Dylan looked like he would rather poke his own eyes out for a moment, then he sighed in a long suffering manner.

"Yes fine but not until that lot are drunker." Sam grinned and went with him to the bar; knowing Dylan was just as rubbish a dancer as her but did enjoy it occasionally.

Later on Sam smiled at Fletch and Tess going for it on the dance floor. Lenny gave her a drink, it looked like a cocktail. "It's non-alcoholic in deference to Little Miss Keogh, who I believe is under the legal drinking age by several years."

Sam smiled and took a sip. "Thanks. I should be buying you a drink. I missed your leaving party."

"Yeah. You had a pretty good excuse though. Did you get a cool scar?"

Sam smiled. "It's hidden by my hair, thank god."

"I'm glad. I'm glad you're okay Sam. I left before I got to tell you that. I was there when the army officer came and told Dylan. Nick was telling me off as usual. " He said ruefully. Sam could picture the scene as he spoke in a way she had never imagined before. She didn't know what to say. Lenny looked far away. "I've never seen that before, I mean I've informed relatives before, but they usually know the way things are going. This was out of the blue. You know Dylan, I never really saw him show much emotion apart from annoyance with me. He just… He looked like… Well he really loves you doesn't he?" Lenny sounded absolutely sure of this and it struck Sam suddenly that several members of staff who previously only tolerated Dylan now seemed to get on very well with him, Tess being a case in point. Perhaps this was why; perhaps they had seen a side to her husband that very few ever saw.

She went over to Dylan, who was examining his secret Santa gift without a look of absolute hatred on his face, which Sam thought was a win for whoever had been the lucky Santa.

"You know what he called bump?" She gestured to Lenny.

"Oh god, you're not going to let Lenny pick our daughter's name are you?"

"No! He called her Little Miss Keogh." Sam said, liking it even more as she said it.

"Little Miss. It's better than bump I suppose." Dylan said and Sam caught sight of the sparkly dog collar he held in his hand. She grinned. The pub door opened behind them and Amanda entered. Sam could feel Dylan tense up at once. She studied him as he watched Amanda intently. What was it about the seemingly friendly woman that unsettled him so much? He moved away, seemingly trying to get as far away from her as possible. It was just as well she was leaving really.

* * *

"The last Christmas we spent together was years ago."

"2008" Dylan said shortly.

"Do you still have the decorations?"

"Yes, such as they are. You got them with about a tenner at poundstretcher, remember?"

"Ah, good times. That was actually a lot for a student to spend on decorations. Your flat was so boring without them; it didn't feel Christmassy at all. Well except for the snowman."

Dylan laughed. "Jack's still got it, you know. Miranda is extremely confused why exactly he's so fond of it. I heard her ask him last year."

"And what did he say?" Sam asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

"I paid forty quid for that and I'm having my money's worth." Dylan repeated.

"You know in twenty years time Jack will be showing his children the perils of alcohol with the help of that snowman." Sam observed.

"Yes, but possibly without the photographic evidence I possess as a visual aid." Sam laughed, having seen the photographs of a drunken Jack swapping the last of his student loan and a perfectly good pair of trousers for a three foot singing fibre-optic snowman. "It still sings, you know. Every time he hits the button." Dylan sang in a comedy falsetto voice," I'm walking in the air…." Sam laughed out loud, shaking her head.

"I assume the decorations are in the cupboard?"

"Yes, they're still in a green box."

Sam turned on the light and examined the cupboard. It was still a bit of a mess and still very cluttered, even though she done her best to clear out the boxes of her things he had kept. She spotted the green cardboard box right at the back, on top of a load of other boxes Dylan had never bothered to unpack. She reached for it but it was slightly out of her reach, especially with the baby now getting in her way. Frustrated she stretched, but only caught the corner and pushed it further away, aggravating her backache further in the process and wincing.

"Let me." Dylan said. Sam hadn't realised he had followed her from the lounge. She swapped places with him and he rescued the box easily, placing it in the middle of the floor in the lounge so Sam could wipe off the remaining dust.

"I knew you would come in useful eventually." She teased

"Oh, putting these up on your own are you?" He threatened.

"Yes, I'll just hop up my ladder and …"

"No." Dylan said instinctively and Sam smiled sweetly at him. "I don't stand a chance." He griped realising he was beaten.

"Yes and don't you forget it!" Sam teased before wincing as she remembered she had been a fan of tinsel when she had bought these decorations.

* * *

Dylan stopped Tom. "I don't know what's gone on between the two of you, but you'd do well to let it go. Don't let your animosity towards Dominic trap you into putting yourself in the wrong."

Tom looked annoyed but nodded and kept walking.

Sam nudged Dylan. "Good advice."

"I won't make a habit of it." He said self consciously. He liked the younger man and could see the way the older consultant got under his skin in someway. If there was a choice to be made between the two of them, Dylan would put money on Zoe choosing Tom, but not if he allowed himself to make a habit of behaving in an unprofessional manner.

* * *

"So you'll remember?" Dylan said as he was walking away.

Sam laughed. "Yes, I'll remember Dylan. Five o'clock on the dot." There was the sound of someone calling for assistance and Sam began to move to see what she could do to help. Dylan knew he had to get back to CDU and turned to leave them to it. There was the sound of raised voices, this time in anger instead of alarm.

"She's my patient."

"Back off! I've got this!" Dylan turned back, just in time to see the locum consultant flying backwards out of the cubicle and knocking into Sam. She would have fallen if not for Zoe who had just appeared in time. Dylan's heart nearly stopped at the sight and he raced back, coming to stand by Sam's side as Zoe asked Tom to explain himself.

"You are out of control!" He said angrily not really caring about whatever was going on there.

"I'm sorry." Tom said, looking at Sam before returning to his patient, a teenage girl who looked unconscious.

Dylan pulled Sam away, although she looked more interested in helping with the girl. Dylan wasn't worried about the girl; she had three doctors and a nurse around her already.

"Are you alright?" He asked her anxiously .He worried enough about her as it was. With some of the research he had read on risks in pregnancy combined with the usual unpredictable drunken charmers that usually littered the E.D. he was surprised he was able to cope with her going to work at all.

"I'm fine." Sam stopped and he let go of her elbow. "I don't know what's got into him." She watched as Tom accompanied the girl into resus.

"Can I have a word in private?" Dylan asked her, unable to take it any longer. Sam tilted her head at him and led him to the empty staffroom.

"You don't need to ask to have a private word with me grumpy!" She said in a teasing tone and took the opportunity to sit down, which would have been very out of character for her a few short months ago. Now of course she was five, nearly six months pregnant and it was beginning to finally slow her down.

"This is a dangerous place." Dylan said, feeling like he needed to convince Sam of that.

She smiled at him. "It's not that bad. What Tom did was a bit out of character."

"Really? Tamzin and Jeff had to take down a violent husband and Lloyd got lumped by a drug addict yesterday. Add that to your near miss and that's all in the last twenty four hours."

Sam started to look irritated. "What are you getting at Dylan?"

"I think it would be better if you gave up work sooner rather than later."

She raised her eyebrows. "I can't believe I'm hearing this. What gives you the right to tell me I can't work anymore?" She rose and challenged him face to face and Dylan resigned himself to the inevitable argument. That didn't mean he was going to back down, not in the slightest.

"That's not what I said. But since you asked, she's my baby too. I don't want anything to happen to her or you." He pointed out.

She looked away. "It's… you're being overdramatic. I have a six month contract and I intend to honour it. It's only ten more weeks. That's nothing really."

"Sam please." Dylan didn't know what to say, to convince her. He had an awful feeling, that it was all about to go wrong, that they had been too lucky and that their luck was about to run out. She was tempting fate, working here. She had nearly died, then she had the threat of the terrorist over her and she had become pregnant when she was still recovering from neurosurgery. It terrified him and he had no control over it whatsoever. He had seen that incident earlier unfold and he was still powerless to stop it. He couldn't protect her.

She shook her head and headed for the door to walk away, but Dylan was the one who was faster now and he placed himself in front of it.

"This job will still be here after she's born." He pleaded.

"This is who I am Dylan." She shook her head and headed for the other door and he didn't stop her.

* * *

Dylan watched Dominic and Tom talking through the glass window of the staffroom. After talking to Zoe she had told him she had given Tom a verbal warning, which in Dylan's view was nowhere near enough. It made him angry just thinking about it. He could have really hurt Sam, she could have fallen, she could have hit her head, she could even have lost the baby. Dylan wasn't sure Sam could stand that. He wasn't sure he could either.

The two men seemed to be arguing again and then Tom suddenly punched the older doctor in the face, no warning, just a fist straight in the face. Dylan watched shocked as Tom rushed away.

He met Zoe in the corridor. "What happened?" She asked.

"No comment." Dylan replied, still shocked. Before today he would have trusted Tom, perhaps would have even called him a friend given time. He clearly had no idea just how unpredictable the other man could be, or how little he was in control of his temper.

"What happened Dylan?" Zoe asked, sensing he knew.

Dylan made his decision. "Tom punched Dominic in the face. I thought you spoke to him and warned him assaulting a staff member was not on?"

"I did." Zoe said grimly.

"Well he just did it again, with bells on. Looks like we'll be looking for a new paeds specialist." Dylan said and left Zoe standing there, looking furious.

She headed after Tom and Dylan felt a flash of conscience before spotting Sam talking to a patient in cubicles. He felt the anger of what Tom could have done return to him then. He had just got in before Dominic that was all. And if Tom expected anything different from Dylan where Sam's safety was concerned, Tom didn't know him at all.

* * *

Dylan watched Sam advising Tom to apologise. A week after he had told Zoe about Tom's assault on Dominic he was beginning to feel a bit guilty. He didn't particularly care about Dominic one way or another but he felt like he had just thrown Tom to the wolves in the heat of the moment and Dylan disliked feeling like he had made a decision without careful consideration. He was unsure whether he had been angry at Tom for putting Sam in danger, jealous of Tom for his easy friendship with Sam or whether he had been angry that he couldn't protect Sam and had just needed to do something. Either way he knew that he was not particularly to blame, after all Tom had hit a colleague, in most workplaces that was immediately a firing offence.

Nevertheless Dylan was not one to play office politics and he promised himself that if the opportunity presented itself he would tell Tom what he had done.

He was surprised to see Tom back at work half an hour later, though clearly not as surprised as Dominic. He was also surprised Dominic wanted him to help with a paeds resus before Tom but he supposed after a colleague had punched you in the face you were understandably a bit wary of working with them.

The ensuing mess with the baby was not to his credit and he knew it. He ran into Tom who was getting some air outside.

"I'm sorry. You were correct and I should have backed you earlier."

"Then why didn't you? I thought we were mates." Tom seemed honestly confused.

"Mates? I don't do mates. I told Zoe about you hitting Dominic." Dylan watched his reaction turn to anger.

"Why would you do that? It was none of your business? What is your problem?"

"My problem is that I told you to control yourself and you couldn't. You put Sam, your pregnant colleague, in danger and even after that you still couldn't control your temper. Why should we put up with that? We get enough rubbish to deal with from the patients without having to deal with not being able to trust our colleagues."

"You still…" Tom started but Dylan wasn't finished.

"If you expected anything different from me when it came to Sam's safety you have another thing coming." He shouted, finally losing his temper.

Tom stared at him. "I never meant to hurt her." He stared at the floor for a long moment, clearly conflicted. "You're right. I've been an idiot. He just gets under my skin, he makes me so angry." He looked back up at Dylan, making eye contact. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I'll resign." He started to walk away.

Dylan made a snap decision. "Tom. Don't resign. You're a good doctor. Let's just learn from this and move on, shall we?" Dylan offered his hand to Tom. Tom took it and shook it with an open expression on his face. "I won't let you down." Dylan nodded and turned towards the E.D entrance. He needed to talk to Zoe about Dominic. He wasn't working out. Before he went in he checked at his phone. Still no calls from his brother. This was getting ridiculous.

* * *

Zoe came into the staffroom as Dylan and Sam were getting ready leave, Sam happily finishing off a packet of wotsits, she was so hungry.

"Dylan, I have something to tell you. We got notification today that Hannah Fleet has been released." Zoe seemed to be holding her breath for Dylan's reaction but it never came.

"All right." He said, continuing to put on his coat.

"All right?" Zoe said incredulously before studying him further.

"Who is Hannah Fleet?" Sam asked before he could give Zoe any kind of response.

"No one important." Dylan said emotionlessly.

"You knew didn't you?" Zoe said irately. "Well thanks a lot for the heads up. It really made my day I can tell you." She walked off, fuming.

"Zoe thinks she's someone important." Sam needled.

"She's mistaken." Dylan said and went to walk off without her. Sam was not having that.

"Oi Keogh, I'm not chasing after you! What's the big deal anyway?" Dylan scowled at her but waited by the door.

"Nothing." He snapped out.

"Yes because you're giving me the impression that it's nothing. You've never mentioned a Hannah Fleet before? Has something happened?" Sam turned to look at him with concern. Nobody had mentioned anything but something had definitely been bothering Dylan for a couple of weeks. Had something happened at work and he had been keeping it from her?

"No." Dylan said shortly.

"Fine." Sam said. She hated it when he got like this, she couldn't do a thing with him and now he would be a nightmare for the rest of the night. She rested her head on the locker for a moment in exasperation.

"Okay then sunshine and rainbows. Let's go home so you can sulk in peace." She said with fake cheerfulness.

Dylan glared at her and then stalked off. Sam rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag and followed him not rushing at all. What the hell was wrong with him?

She got to the car and Dylan was already in the driver's seat which would have been fine except it was her car. She considered making a fuss about it, but realised she really had no idea what was going on here so let it go. She immediately regretted it as he seemed to be suddenly in touch with his inner formula one driver, driving faster than she had ever seen him before. At first Sam was just worried about his state of mind but soon she had other things on her mind as she was shocked to discover she was starting to feel a little motion sick. She never got carsick. She now deeply regretted those wotsits.

"Can you slow down a little?" She said swallowing.

"Surely I'm not driving too fast for you?" He said incredulously. "I thought I drove like a grandma?"

"Dylan, I feel sick." She said before deciding she shouldn't talk anymore.

He slowed down a little which Sam was deeply grateful for but it was a moot point as they had reached the mooring. Sam got out immediately and took in a deep breath. It didn't help. She reached the walkway and Dylan unlocked the front door of the boat. The moonlight glinted off the gently lapping water and it finished her off and she pushed past him roughly and vomited into the kitchen sink.

"Sorry." Dylan said sounding sheepish. Sam felt a little better now she had been sick. She sat down at the kitchen table and Dylan handed her a glass of water before sorting out the kitchen.

"Well that's put me off wotsits for life." She joked, feeling better quickly now she had a moment to sit down.

"What's up Dylan?" She watched him carefully. She wasn't so bothered that he had made her sick; god knows the sickness earlier on in her pregnancy had made that lose its fear for her. But his recklessness was very out of character.

"I can't talk about it Sam."

"There's nothing so bad that you can't share it with me. There's nothing that would make me look at you differently." She really believed that.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you. I just… give me time?"

Sam reached across the table and grasped his hand. "I just hate to see you hurting. I want to help you the way you've helped me."

Dylan held onto her hand.

"Whatever it is, it's in the past. It can't hurt us now. We're still here." Sam said. Dylan looked upset at that. He let go of her hand and left her at the table.

* * *

It was December the 21st traditionally known as Black Friday and Sam was helping out by working a double shift. The day before had been the day when she was officially 6 months (twenty four weeks) pregnant. Sam had gone past all the other milestones without really noticing but this one she knew was really important. If Little Miss was born now, she would have very hard time, but she might survive. That was huge and to be honest it was a point Sam had sometimes feared that she would ever get to, despite her pregnancy so far being fairly straightforward. There was still the fear lurking at the back of her mind, that her body would reach a certain point and say no, you've put me through too much. Dylan seemed unmoved by the date, which Sam found strangely comforting. He obviously was taking things in a much more sensible manner than she was. Tonight he had gone out to a scene where the paramedics were having difficulty with the patient who required sedation and intubation but was proving a challenge. Sam had watched him go with no small amount of jealousy as she returned to her routine tasks alternating between resus and clearing cubicles.

She went to get some patient information off clinical portal and was distracted by Zoe appearing. "Alright people, ambulance service has got in touch and there's been an incident at the scene." Sam felt her stomach drop suddenly, and it had nothing to do with her baby's movements. She leaned against the desk, a sudden rush of fear stealing her breath. Zoe continued, "As well as the casualty, they're bringing in two members of the 999 response team with knife wounds. We don't know who yet. I know this will be difficult for all of us. Sam. I'd like you to take care of cubicles so we can focus all our attention on resus."

"Zoe, who? Did you speak to Dylan?" Sam said, amazed as she spoke how level her tone was even as she gripped the desk to stop her hands shaking. The entire E.D. team seemed to be looking at her with pity in their eyes, which Sam would have found annoying had she cared a jot about them at that moment in time.

Zoe regarded her with sympathy. "No, it's a bit chaotic. I'm sure he's fine, but obviously in the circumstances I want you out of resus okay? Just take the pressure off the rest of us and I'll send him your way the moment he gets here, I promise." Sam knew she was being 'handled' and any other time she would have kicked and screamed about being shut out of resus, but she had seen enough friends on the trolleys in front of her in Afghan to not be anxious to see her husband too. She knew where it came to treating Dylan she would be more hindrance than help.

She made an enormous effort to master her reaction. "Fine." She turned and walked off and the team dispersed after her, a well oiled machine preparing for the onslaught. Sam knew she looked calm, but a massive part of her was busy quietly panicking. Please no. Please not him, she repeated like a mantra. She got on with her job, feeling like she was taking ten times longer to do everything than usual but unable to free up the part of her brain that was desperately hoping that it wasn't Dylan currently being rushed into resus. Sam had not considered how much of her current and future happiness was dependant on one person and it terrified her.

Swallowing her inner turmoil she discharged cat-bite woman, gave hypochondriac man a psych referral and sent Smarties-up-nose child and parents up to ENT. She was just finishing up some stitches on drunken idiot number nine when she heard a familiar voice through the curtain.

"Have you seen Sam? I'm supposed to let her know I'm not dead."

Sam forced herself to finish the stitch and tie off the knot. "All done. Excuse me." She said to the patient. She almost walked into Dylan and she couldn't help grabbing hold of him tightly, making him return the gesture quickly and wrapping her up in a reassuring embrace. She buried her head in his shoulder.

"Er... I'm not dead." Dylan said awkwardly.

"Good." She grunted back, not wanting to let go of him now she was touching him and he was warm and his heart was beating and he was here in front of her.

She steeled herself and stepped back. "You'd better get back in there." She nodded towards resus. Dylan seemed to be watching her warily, after her uncharacteristic display. She seemed to have freaked him out somewhat.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Fine. Go." She answered and turned away and it was like a physical pain. She wanted to hang on to his hand and just bury herself in his arms again, but they were at work and she knew he wouldn't like it at all. Truthfully it wasn't like her. She looked towards resus. God, this must be what he went through when she put herself in danger. It was horrific, no wonder he hated it. She felt a flood of sympathy for him. If it felt like this every time, she wondered he hadn't given her up as a bad job and moved on ages ago. She shook her head to try and clear it and picked up the chart of drunken idiot number ten and tried to get the thought out of her mind.

* * *

Sam got up from the sofa and stood there for a moment before lying down on her side. She was barely there for a minute before she got back up again. She pressed her hands against her back. The baby was being especially active and her already angry back was not dealing with the movement's well. Dylan watched her for a moment. She was silent but she seemed unusually agitated.

"Is something wrong?" He said, a dread suddenly forming in his stomach.

Sam shook her head in frustration "I just can't get comfortable. I'm so tired but I can't find a comfortable position. I can't sit down or lie down. It's driving me crazy.

He stood and joined her in her pacing for a moment before stopping her. He acted on instinct and pulled her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and leaned her bump against him. He could feel Little Miss kicking against his body and it made him smile. He let Sam lean against him and rubbed her back slowly. She moaned and placed her arms around his neck.

"You scared the shit out of me earlier."

Dylan jerked. "You didn't really think I was dead?" He hadn't considered what Sam must be thinking until Zoe had sent him out of resus. He had even protested it was unnecessary.

"No." Sam said flatly and Dylan felt a bit guilty that his first instinct was to be quite pleased it seemed to have affected her. It would be good for her to experience being on the other side of the equation.

He continued to rub her back and she relaxed further, leaning more of her weight on him. "Dylan." She sighed as she finally relaxed.

"Hows' that?" He asked as he continued to rub her back. There was no answer and he shifted slightly to see her face. She had fallen asleep standing up leaning against him. He rolled his eyes but didn't move, deciding if this was the only way she could get some rest then he had to let her sleep for as long as he could.

* * *

It was Christmas Eve and they were both off for the afternoon. Dylan was working Christmas day night and Sam was working Boxing Day morning but they had both been relatively lucky with the shifts.

"This will be our last Christmas where it's just us." Sam said stretched out next to Dylan, about to watch a film. They had the music channels on, playing cheesy Christmas music. Dylan reached for his drink and put his uneaten mince pie down on her stomach. Sam looked at him in mock outrage.

"I know. Next year it'll be all about her." He said reaching back to rescue his mince pie only to discover there was a bite missing out of it.

He gave Sam a betrayed look and she smirked at him. "Twenty four weeks." He ran his hand over her stomach. "You might want to lay off the mince pies; you know the last trimester is when you put on the most weight. You don't want it to be the wrong sort of weight."

Sam was speechless. "You cheeky…." She hit him with a handy cushion and he lost his grip on the remains of the pie which flew into the air and landed on the floor. Dervla pounced quick as a flash and it disappeared in a gulp. Sam couldn't help laughing. Dylan huffed. "I asked for that didn't I?"

"Yup." Sam said. Little Miss kicked suddenly and Sam put his hand on her stomach so he could feel her. "Daddy's silly isn't he?" Dylan smiled as he felt her kick against his hand. He leant down and said in conspiratorial tone. "Daddy is perfectly normal. It's mummy that's loopy."

The Christmas music changed to a slower song and Sam shifted to cuddle up closer.

Dreams are like angels

They keep bad at bay

Love is the light

Scaring darkness away

I'm so in love with you

Make love your goal

The power of love

A force from above

Cleaning my soul

Flame on burn desire

Love with tongues of fire

Purge the soul

Make love your goal

"This is a beautiful song. I never realised before. What did you do last Christmas?" Sam asked, suddenly curious.

"I usually worked. But last year the E.D. was closed so I went away, with Dervla. We went to the coast. What about you?"

"I did some cover work for the army. And I went to see Holly for a bit. But nothing on the day. I wanted to be back in Afghan it was so bad."

"You didn't go back to your father's house?"

"No. I suffered through enough Christmas's in that house not to want to go back in a hurry. When you've spent Christmas with people who honestly love you, going back to being a polite guest is more than I could stand. Last year I never dreamt we would be able to get back together."

"I didn't think so either. I loved you but I wanted to go back to how things were. I didn't think we had a future."

"Turns out we achieved the impossible despite being rubbish with emotions."

Dylan smiled and rubbed Sam's stomach. "Maybe Mummy and Daddy aren't so silly after all."


End file.
